


Merge

by essequamvideri24



Category: The Shadow of the Tower, The White Princess (TV), The White Queen (TV), Winter King: Henry VII and the Dawn of Tudor England - Thomas Penn
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-05-04 20:50:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5348093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/essequamvideri24/pseuds/essequamvideri24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU of Henry VII and Elizabeth of York.  Harry is the CFO of Tudor Construction and Liz is heiress to York Enterprises.  To convince the boards of both companies that a merger will work their mothers convince Harry and Liz to publicly pretend to date.  But the line between pretend and reality eventually gets blurred.</p><p>(Please don't take this too seriously.  Writing this is like doodling on scratch paper, just something to stretch my fingers for fun.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“It’s important that they keep up appearances.” Maggie said coolly as she sipped her white wine.

Beth arched an eyebrow, “I couldn’t agree more.”

“You know we are sitting right here at the table with you?” Harry eyed both of the women with something approaching disbelief.

“And that we are real people.” Liz muttered under her breath. 

This had to be the most awkward dinner of her life. Maggie had made the reservations before inviting her mother and her. The restaurant was, of course, very nice, but cramped and obscure. A small hole in the wall Italian place that was literally in the basement of a building on the outskirts of Little Italy. Sawdust covered floors and haughty servers were made up for with authentic cuisine and private dining. It was the perfect place for a covert business meeting for the heads of two high profile companies. 

“This is no time to be acting childish.” Maggie reprimanded her son lightly, “Just be thankful that I am doing this for you.”

“You’re doing this for your business.”

“Which you will one day inherit. Now, pay attention, this concerns you.” Though she spoke in clipped phrases, there was no trace of irritation in her voice. It was nothing personal, even though family was involved, it was all business.

Beth motioned for Liz to also keep up. “You two need to be seen together. And you need to really sell it. Hold hands, smile at one another, you know… just look like a couple.”

But that was the thing, Liz had never had a real boyfriend before. Despite being praised the tabloids over for being the statuesque, strawberry-blond bombshell of an heiress and socialite, she’d never landed a beau before. Most men were as much intimidated by her father’s company legacy as they were by her mother’s legendary business acumen. 

Opposite her at the table sat Harry Tudor, nearly ten years her senior. Tall and a little gangly with a curly mop of dark brown hair, and grey eyes that glimmered like twin beacons above high cheekbones, wearing a dark green polo emblazoned with his company’s logo, he was not really her type. Or, he wasn’t what she imagined her type would be, if she had one. 

They hadn’t met before today, but she knew him well. They had attended the same school, years apart, she’d seen his name emblazoned on the quiz bowl trophies in the corridor. While he would one day inherit Tudor Construction, as it was now he was the head of their financial department and had been written up in Forbes a few months back as a tax and accounting “whiz kid”.

In other words, he was something of a dork. 

“Remind me again, why is this necessary?” She moved her pasta around on her plate, could this whole idea be any more outside of her comfort zone?

“Because I say it is.” Her mother hissed low enough so only Liz could hear.

“If you want me to take part in business machinations, like an adult, I expect to be treated like one.” She whispered back.

Beth pursed her lips and Liz knew she had won that round. “We need this merger to go through.” She explained. “The boards of both companies don’t think we can all play nice, the families in charge I mean. We intend to show them they are wrong. Publically”

“But why us, what do we have to do with this?”

“Well, Harry here will be promoted to CFO, that means –“

“I know what that means.” She waved her mother on, from the look on Harry’s face she guessed the promotion had already been discussed. Normally it would be considered nepotism, but he had proven himself as a real money man.

“And you, darling daughter, you already have a public persona that has captured media attention. You’ll be hired on part time in our public relations department, which makes sure you are tied in with the company, officially.” 

“So,” Harry cut in, “we just have to date – I mean, pretend to date, until the merger goes through.”

Maggie nodded, “Yes, that’s all we are asking of you.”

Harry nodded, apparently mulling things over. “Wait,” He said, then gestured to both matriarchs. “By having this meeting, aren’t you already proving that you can work just fine with one another?”

“Well, Beth and I can work just fine together, the same needs to be demonstrated by our top level management. Plus, your relationship, which needs to be very public, should get the media on our side and will garner some attention for the merger.”

The table grew quiet, the mothers watching their children process the demands. Harry studied his food as Liz’s eyes transfixed on the painting on the far wall over his shoulder. It wasn’t fair that they were asking her to do this, but her family was everything to her, as much as she and her mother were given to occasional spats. And as much as she hated to admit it, York Enterprises was a big part of her family.

“I’m in, if Liz is.” Harry agreed at long last, looking up to meet her eye.

She bit her lip and shrugged, “Yeah, ok, I’ll do it.” 

“Perfect. Liz, you start tomorrow at work.” Beth said.

Maggie had already pulled out her phone and was tapping at the screen with concentration, “I’ve already made dinner reservations for you both for Friday evening…”

“Oh, but – “ Liz began, before cutting herself off.

“What is it?” Both women looked up at her.

A flush blossomed on her cheeks, “It’s just I had this restaurant opening to go to on Friday night. And well, you said you were looking for publicity.”

Her mother smiled approvingly, “Good thinking, Liz.” 

“Perfect, yes, that’s just perfect.” Maggie muttered, no doubt rearranging her calendar on her phone.

Harry and Liz exchanged numbers over desert and left their mothers to their own conversation. 

“You know, I saw your photo in a magazine the other day.” Harry said, sipping his coffee.

Liz wrinkled her nose, “Oh.” She hated going to those silly events, walking the carpet, posing in front of the cameras. But her mother encouraged it, saying it was good for the company’s public image.

“Yeah, you were at some red carpet thing I guess, blue dress,” he cleared his throat, “and what not.”

“Oh, yeah, that.” She delved her fork into the slice of angel cake she had ordered. A benefit for a children’s hospital, her official philanthropy.

“The blurb said you were a junior at NYU. That’s impressive.” Oh, so he had been taking notes on her, had he?

“Not as impressive as, say, being labeled an accounting and tax whiz kid by a certain magazine.” She smirked, this was a game she could easily keep up with.

Harry’s eyes widened, “You read Forbes?”

“Only when it features eligible young men.” She laughed. “But honestly, yes I read it, call it self-education or whatever. I’m just trying to understand more about business.”

His thin lips curled up at the edges, “And are you learning a lot?”

“I think I just got an education in the role media has in public mergers, so yeah.”

The bill came and while their mothers squabbled politely over who would take care of it, Harry paid. “So, I guess just text me and let me know what you’re wearing so we can coordinate.” He said as the waitress left with his credit card.

“It’s not prom, Tudor. Just, dress nice.”

“Like a suit?”

“Casual nice.” He still looked clueless, “Blazer, shirt, slacks, casual shoes, no tie.” She supplied.

“Alright. So I’ll come get your Friday at…?”

“You can just send a car, we’ll meet up at the event.” She said standing when the waitress came back with his card.

“Shouldn’t we arrive together?” He was shoving his card back into his wallet as he stood.

“I’ll text you Friday.” She said, “And thanks for dinner.”

****

Her cubicle at her new job was small and her duties were undeniably menial, but Liz was actually glad to have something to occupy her time outside of class other than shopping and organizing her social calendar.

She had been set up with a small desk near her boss’ office, and played the part of an assistant, making coffee runs and copies more often than she engaged in actual public relations work. But the job was something of a vote of confidence from her mother as it tracked with her interests and her studies in school. 

The week passed in a blur of work, class, studying, and social appointments. Before she knew it, it was Friday afternoon and she had almost forgotten her fake date. In fact, she would have forgotten it altogether had not Harry texted her.

So, what do you want to do about tonight?

“Crap.” She sat up straighter in her swivel chair.

Maybe we can meet up somewhere before and go from there. She suggested in reply.

The answer was swift, I’m sort of tangled up with some spreadsheets. Would you be able to meet me at my office?

Be there at 7. She confirmed, as she snapped her laptop shut and slipped it into her tote, she could make it if she left now.

Once home she dressed quickly in a dress she had bought just for the occasion, she needed their debut to be perfect. For the sake of the merger. 

As she arranged her hair and reapplied her makeup she was surprised to feel a tingle of nerves. It wasn’t a real date and she wasn’t even attracted to Harry, so why did she feel jittery? It was all she could do to keep her hand stead as she traced a line of liquid eyeliner on her top lid. 

“Getting ready?” Beth floated into her room to settle on the edge of the bed.

Liz steadied her breathing and painstakingly drew a precise cat flick of eyeliner at the outer corner of each eye. “Yeah.” She murmured. 

“Just remember, you really need to sell this. But try to be realistic. This is supposed to be your first public appearance, so, you need to make it look like a new relationship.” 

“That shouldn’t be hard to do,” Liz capped her eyeliner pen and searched through her vanity for the perfect lipstick, “Considering Henry and I hardly know one another.”

“I’m counting on you, Liz.” Beth stood and took her daughter’s hand to draw her up. “You look lovely.” She said, admiring the pains Liz had taken to look beautiful. “I can’t wait to see the photos from the event, and read the blurb on page six tomorrow.”

Yes, of course, her mother would be monitoring such things.

She said her goodbyes and grabbed her bag before heading down to the street hail a cab. Henry’s office was not a far and once in the lobby she texted him to find out where in the vast Tudor Construction building his office was.

As she rode the elevator to one of the highest floors, Liz checked her appearance in the mirrored doors. Her strawberry blonde hair had been curled, pinned away from her face, and arranged in a cascade over one shoulder. For her attire she wanted something flirty and sophisticated, but not too sexy. Walking the fine line had been a challenge, but she’d eventually opted for a silver beaded sheath dress, with a high neck and cut away shoulders, that fell to mid-thigh. The nipped-in waist perfectly accentuated her curves without making her look sleazy. It was classy and eye-catching. Just what she needed for the media.

The doors opened at his floor and she followed the directions he had messaged her to find his office. The floor was deserted of its workers, the late fall sun had dipped below the horizon, and it was dark in the open plan office. Stepping into the doorway of Harry’s office, it was apparent he had not heard her approach. He was bent over his desk strewn with papers, an open laptop balanced atop a small mountain of file folders, as he studied a sheet printed with numbers, a highlighter clutched in his hand. 

“Knock knock.” She said softly, and Harry’s head snapped up.

“Oh, uh, sorry about that.” He hastily snatched the black frame glasses from their perch on the bridge of his nose and pushed back his chair from his desk. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Well, that’s alright.” She felt a little silly, standing there by the door in her little dress and five inch heels.

He must have sensed so, for he bid her step into the office, as he unrolled the sleeves of his crisp white shirt. “I didn’t really have time to change.” He confessed as she moved to take one of the chairs opposite his desk.

Harry claimed his suit jacket from the peg behind the door and pulled it on. “Will this work?”

Liz looked up to study him, clad in a navy blue slim-cut suit, white shirt, black tie, black belt, and back shoes. The look was light years away from his uninspired polo and khakis of a few nights prior. “It will work just fine.” She rummaged in her bag and produced two silver cufflinks, and hesitated a moment before saying. “I also brought these, they were my father’s. You don’t have to wear them, I just thought they… would look nice.”

“Oh, yeah, ok.” Harry smoothed the lapels of his jacket. “I have to say, I’ve never worn cufflinks before.”

“You haven’t?”

“Would you, ah…” He suppressed a smile, “would you mind showing me how?”

Liz stood and left her clutch on the chair, “It’s quite easy.” She said as he held up an arm. Arranging the cuff of his shirt over his wrist she maneuvered the silver link into the button holes. Their closeness, as she fastened the cufflinks on each wrist, made her heart beat just a little bit faster. She was overly aware of the way he stood over her, the way he studied what she did, or maybe studied her.

“Now,” She said, stepping back, “All you have to do is comb your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” He ran his fingers through his curly hair, brown hair, which the sun streaming in the window gilded a shade of red. It was a bit over-long, and could easily have been pulled back into a pony tail, though he didn’t seem the sort to wear it like that.

She smiled and fished a comb out of her bag, “It just needs some taming.”

Suitably arrayed and ready to go (he had patted his pockets muttering “keys, wallet, phone” at least twice before venturing out of the office) they made for the elevator together. “I called for a car while you were on your way over, it should be waiting downstairs.” He said as he motioned for her to get in the lift first.

It was a long ride down to the lobby, a long ride with an all-encompassing silence Liz was unsure how to penetrate. She hardly knew Henry, or anything about him. They didn’t seem to have much in common, aside from overbearing mothers who ran fortune 500 companies.

“So where did you go to college?” She asked at long last as they sailed slowly past the 50th floor, both of them standing on opposite sides of the elevator car, facing the doors.

“I got my accounting degree from Brown. Then I went and got my CPA. After that I got my Masters in Accounting at Hofstra, while I was working my first year here.”

“Sounds busy.”

“I imagine you’re a busy woman yourself.”

Liz noted his use of the word woman, as opposed to girl, which was what so many were inclined to call her. She appreciated the distinction. “I have a few irons in the fire.”

“So, what are your studying at school?”

“I’m an English major with a minor in nonprofit management and policy.” She recited. The studies were perfect for her and suited her interests to a tee, as evidenced by her exemplary grades.

“And am I keeping your from your studies tonight?” Was there a hint of jest to his voice?

“It’s a Friday night, Tudor. I’m not that big a nerd.” But honestly, she would rather be at home with a book than out on the town with a perfect stranger for a public appearance, but such things were not to be said. “I have all weekend to get my work done.”

Once down in the lobby Harry was the perfect gentleman, getting the doors for her and helping her into the town car he had hired. He had even made sure there was some cheeky champagne in the back seat. “Don’t let your mom know I gave you alcohol.” He said lightly as he poured her a glass. 

Liz took the glass and sipped with relish. This was just what she needed to calm her jumpy nerves. And it seemed Harry too was grateful for the drink. 

She examined him covertly in the dark of the back seat, his face in profile as he watched the world outside his window go by. A long face with high cheekbones framed by unruly curls. He was a far cry from those the magazines speculated she was dating, not a meathead athlete or breakthrough actor with boyish good looks. Harry was a man, not a handsome man, but a man who certainly exuded some kind of undeniable charm. The word charisma came to mind.

They rode in a comfortable silence, Harry happy to pour out enough champagne to fill Liz’s mind with bubbles that lifted her spirits and banished her nerves to an extent.

Before she knew it the car was slowing to a roll, and they were about to step out onto the red carpet. Liz steeled herself, quickly touching up her lipstick before the car stopped and her door was opened by an usher. She slipped out neatly, waving to the photographers with a half smile before looking over her bare shoulder. Harry popped up behind her and she led the way, lightbulbs flashing in a blinding haze.

She stopped and looked up at Henry. “And now we pose. It’s sort of this thing; pose, move a few feet, pose, and on and on till we reach the end.” He smirked and a laugh escaped his lips.

Liz angled herself towards Harry and gave the cameras a look. She was a little surprised to feel Harry encircle her waist with his arm, his hand resting on her hip.

The flashes went off in a frenzy, photographers jostling one another for the perfect shot. This was the first time she had attended a public event with a guy, and a shot like this gave tabloids more fodder than they had ever had for her. All the media there knew it. 

Turning to look upwards at Henry she found a genial smile on his face. He was going to be better at this than she had anticipated. 

They posed for a minute or two before she took his hand and led him to their next stop.

“Liz! Liz!” A particularly persistent reporter called out, as she gestured to her cameraman to hone in on them. Harry pressed his hand to the small of her back, seeming to urge her that they should go talk to the reporter. “Liz, who are you here with tonight?” The reporter asked, when they had stepped forward.

“Harry Tudor.” She responded.

“Are you two dating?”

Liz smiled and turned to meet Harry’s equally as seemingly elated expression. They both laughed amiably, “We’re…” The bubbles in her mind were making it hard for her to come up with the normally witty responses she gave reporters.

“It’s new. We’re having fun.” Harry supplied the perfectly evasive answer that was sure to set the public to talking.

“Liz, you never bring boyfriends with you, why Harry?” The microphone was pointed back at her.

She could feel Harry pressing her hand. “Well, Harry is tall enough to still top me even in heels, so he made the cut.” Again, it wasn’t a real answer to the question, but it would serve to fuel the rumor mill regarding their “relationship”.

With that she could feel Harry pulling her back, he was right, they had given the report just enough. They continued posing for the photographers in comfortable, couple type arrangements until they reached the end of the carpet and were ushered through into the restaurant. 

“Lord, it was cold out there.” Liz remarked, rubbing her arms to banish the chill.

“Do you want my…” Harry made to take off his jacket.

She waived her hand dismissively and they were led to their table. “That’s alright, thanks, it’s plenty warm in here.”

“You’re a real pro.” Harry said as they sat.

Liz spread her napkin over her lap, “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

Harry was good enough to order her wine, which the waitress did not question.

The dinner passed with general conversation, getting to know one another. Harry told her of his childhood, boarding school in France, brief vacations with his mother, a consummate workaholic. She told him a little of her life, growing up with a herd of siblings and two over-ambitious parents. She was careful to leave out the unsavory parts, her father’s death, her uncle robbing her mother of the CEO position at York Enterprises, moving from their penthouse apartment to a cramped townhouse in Queens when ends barely met, her Uncle’s sudden death. Some of it would have been covered in the papers, but her story was vastly different in that it was personal.

Dinner cleared away, Liz stood, legs a little unsteady from the evening’s drinks, “There will be some paparazzi at the front door.” She said, “If you want to leave through the side door that’s ok.”

Harry considered this, “Maybe, the front door?”

“Is the driver still out there?”

“Yeah, I’ll just text him and let him know to meet us out front.”

As they neared the doors Liz could see the photographers loitering about with their cameras. “Ready?” She asked as they clasped hands.

Harry nodded and led the way out, Liz following just behind him. The lights flashing and the reporters calling out their names. Before she knew it Harry was tipping her into the car. The door shut and she breathed a sigh of relief before Harry entered the back seat from the other side.

“Well, that’s not going to be something I get used to any time soon.” He commented, a flush coloring his cheeks. She sensed he was just as tipsy as she was. How many glasses of wine had they had?

“It’s not something you ever get used to, trust me.” She sat back in her seat. 

“What got you started into it? The red carpet stuff, I mean. You don’t seem like the type.”

Liz shook her head, “I guess you could say it was my mom. Or maybe it was my dad. People are very interested in my family, and especially after my dad passed away they seemed particularly interested in me. It was good for business and publicity that I was out there all the time, getting my photo taken.” She pursed her lips, “But no, you’re right, it’s not very me.”

They rode on, exchanging pleasantries, until the car stopped at the curb outside of her building. 

“Thanks for coming out tonight.” She said, unsure how to leave things.

“Thank you for showing me the ropes.” 

He got out to come around and get her door for her. Should she give him a kiss? Oh, no, of course not. After all it wasn’t a real date, or even a real relationship. “We’ll set something up again really soon.” 

He nodded, “Good night, Liz.” 

****

The faint tinkle of her phone notifying her of a text message woke Liz from her dreams. Bleary eyed she rolled over to grab her phone off the charger on her night stand. 

Did you see page six yet?

It was Harry. 

No. Just got up.

Well, we also made it on a few websites.

He sent her some links to various online mags. She didn’t normally read them, or look at her photo, but she was especially curious. Clicking into the first she was immediately confronted with a full length photo of her and Harry. She was standing beside him, her hand pressed to his chest, his arm was around her waist. They were looking at one another with smiles.

She couldn’t deny that they looked like a couple. Not only because of the body language. They seemed to complement one another, and looked natural together. She couldn’t pin point exactly what it was, but they looked right together, definitely not like a fake couple.

There was a knock at the door before Beth let herself in. “Ah, I see you are finally up.” She crawled onto the bed beside her daughter. “Tell me about your evening.”

“It was nice. Did you see these yet?” She handed off her phone to her mother.

“I saw a few photos and read a few stories. People seem quite interested in you two. I watched a short interview and, I have to say you and Harry really sell it well.”

She cringed a little at the idea of selling a relationship, but, well, she knew what she had signed up for. “I’m just glad I can help.”


	2. Decisions

“Don’t forget,” Professor Klein said, as she stacked her notes neatly on the podium, “Your group projects are due in two weeks. Class is dismissed.”

Liz closed her notebook and began packing her course supplies back into her tote bag. 

“So, uh,” Jamie began as he also packed his things into his backpack, “We should really meet up to discuss our approach to our project.”

“Yeah, of course.” She and Jamie had shared several English classes before, but had never worked together. Or really spoken. Though Liz chalked up the latter to her own shyness around him. He was undeniably good looking, with blonde hair cropped short on the sides, but long on top, and warm brown eyes and a square jaw. He had a stocky, athletic build and an easy manner she found intriguing. She’d be lying if she didn’t say she’d been watching him for a while, even imaging what it would be like to be together. So when they had been paired up a few weeks back, she’d been delighted.

“If you’re free this afternoon we could meet up at Java Joe’s and make a game plan.” He suggested.

“This afternoon?” Liz hoisted her tote up on to her shoulder as she stood, scanning her mental calendar. “Yeah, I’m free.”

“Great, and here’s my number.” He Jamie scribbled it on a scrap of paper. “Wanna shoot for 2?”

She glanced down at the number. It seemed so strange, all the times she had imagined getting his number, it hadn’t been like this. “I’ll be there.”

Walking from the classroom, Liz felt elated. Finally, she had some excuse to talk to Jamie. Something beyond, “Can I borrow a pen?” or “Have you started on that paper yet?”

She was just stepping out of the building when her phone buzzed. It was a text from Harry.

_See this yet?_ Attached was a link to a gossip site. Pictures of her and Harry in the park yesterday morning taking a stroll popped up, accompanied by the headline York Heiress and Tudor Money Man, New York’s New Young Power Couple? 

Liz very nearly rolled her eyes. Power couple. More like pawn couple. She had been on a few more “dates” with Harry after the appearance at the restaurant, all of them staged to look good, but fairly impersonal in nature if she was being honest. She hadn’t learned much about Harry beyond the surface level stuff, and she surely wasn’t bearing her soul to him either.

Not in the mood to respond, Liz shoved her phone deep into the pocket of her quilted Burberry jacket, and hurried off to her next class.

****

Java Joe’s wasn’t a quiet café, but it was cozy and environmentally conducive to accomplishing work. Scared of being late, Liz had shown up fifteen minutes early. Fifteen excruciating minutes. She had taken a seat where she could see the door, and looked up almost every time someone came in. Embarrassed by her own desperateness, she made herself focus on her computer screen and ignore the door.

When Jamie finally did arrive, she only looked up when he was practically at the table. “Hey, sorry I’m a little late.” He said, dropping into the chair opposite her’s at the table, “I got caught chatting with a guy after my world lit class.”

“That’s alright.” Liz pulled up their assignment on her laptop. “Have you looked at the prompts yet?”

Jamie opened his laptop as he said, “I just glanced at them a while ago. Was there one you wanted to focus on?”

Her eyes scanned the page, “I thought number eight looked pretty interesting, about social themes in coming-of-age literature.”

He furrowed his brows in confusion, “Really?”

Has she made some faux pas? A bad choice? Was she coming of as a total nerd? “Well, I mean, there were a lot of other good ones in there.”

They sat in silence, each looking over the assignment. Liz’s eyes barely registered what they saw, instead her mind worked to analyze their recent exchange, until at last he spoke up.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I mean, they all seem… whatever… to me. Why don’t we just do the one you said?”

She nodded, “Alright, well, which book should we focus on? Or maybe we can compare two books. That might be more dynamic.”

He shrugged, “I only read one of the coming-of-age books, to be honest.”

“Oh, uh…” Liz pulled up their book list, “Which one?”

“Norwegian Wood.” He said it like a question. As though he was not entirely sure he had read it, after all.

“Well, it might be kind of cool if you wrote about that book, and I wrote about another book, and then we worked on the comparison section together.” She looked up from her screen, “If that sounds alright.”

Jamie smiled, “That seems like a good plan.” He shut his laptop and moved to return it to his backpack. Signifying the end of any work. Were they really done meeting already? He didn’t want to talk about the project more? “Hey, I’d really like to…” for a moment he hesitated, then his grin reappeared, “I’d really like to take you out sometime this week.”

“Like… a date?” Liz couldn’t help but clarify, even though her mind had gone all aflutter. Certainly he couldn’t be asking her out. Not the one guy she’d been eyeing for the past year and a half. Not the guy she could barely work up the nerve to speak to.

“Something like that, yeah.”

Was it Liz, or were his brown eyes suddenly more warm and inviting? “I, uh, yeah… I mean…” Her mind wandered back to Harry. She should say no, she had a boyfriend. Though strictly speaking that wasn’t exactly true. “I’m a little busy this week. Can I get a rain check?”

Unfazed, Jamie took her response in stride, “Sure, just let me get your number.”

As she punched her number into his phone, Liz couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. She wanted to have been able to say yes right away. But hopefully he’d be willing to give it another go after things were all done with Harry.

****

The elevator slowly made its way to the 56th floor, stopping every other floor to take on and deposit passengers. Liz’s arms were killing her, juggling crates of coffees, a big bag of pastries and her heavy handbag. It was three in the afternoon on a Thursday and when the head of PR had announced that it was looking like everyone would be staying late to meet the deadline, Liz had been sent on a coffee run.

Her phone went off in her purse, a text. There was no way she could look at it now. Inching up floor by floor seemed to take an absolute age. As did passing out the coffee and snack orders. Finally back at her own desk with her cappuccino Liz unearthed her cell phone from the depths of her purse.

_Don’t forget the premier tonight._

Liz squeezed her eyes shut in exasperation. She nearly had forgot. Well, not entirely. She had hung up her dress on her closet door before leaving for work that morning. 

_I’m going to be at work a little late and won’t have time to go home and get ready. Since you live closer can I have my things brought around to your place and get ready there? Do you mind?_

It was the only way things could work.

_Not a problem_. He shot back immediately. _My unit is 29B, the concierge can let whoever in to my place to leave your things there._

_Thanks._

Liz called Cecily to make the arrangements with her sister and constant confidante, before delving back into her work. Her responsibilities with regard to the project were nothing of great import, proofreading reports which had probably already been proofread, making sure pages were in sequential order, and occasionally fact checking statistics. 

At six thirty her boss, Meg, has dismissed her. The elevator back down to the lobby seemed to fly, gone were the frequent stops and excess passengers. The ride from the office to Harry’s building was brief, but gave her enough time to realize how nervous she was to go to Harry’s apartment for the first time. Something about his home seemed mysteriously private to her, something she couldn’t possibly intrude upon. Maybe it was his own reserved nature or maybe it was her own lack of insight into him as a person.

Harry was waiting in the lobby when she walked in, she had sent him a message on the way over. “Hey.” He greeted her, taking her hand and bending to peck her on the cheek, briefly enveloping her in his cologne. She hadn’t entirely grown use to the displays of affection in front of others, even if it was just the few people in the lobby. It was an older building from the art deco era, and boasted colorful but tasteful tilework in the lobby and a bank of old elevators with elaborately decorated doors. They got into an elevator and waited for the doors to close before they broke apart.

“Did Cecily drop off my things?” She asked.

Henry nodded, “Yeah. They were in the dining room when I got home.”

Liz cast about in her mind for something to talk about. “How was work today?”

He chuckled and shook his head with an incredulous smile.

“What?” She demanded lightly.

“Nothing, I mean… do you really want to know?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah.”

“It was fine. I disagreed with Landis Electric over some billing statements they sent over for some electrical engineering work they…” He trailed off with another self-deprecating shake of his head.

“Go on, I’m listening.” She urged.

“If you really want to know, we subcontracted with Landis for them to do some electrical engineering on a project. They bid at one price, but now that we are two-thirds through the project they are on track to exceed their projection significantly and I don’t see their statements as reconciling with the labor and materials they have actually expended.”

“So, you think their fudging their numbers on billing?” She asked.

“Exactly.”

“Did you confront them about it?”

The doors slid open. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Did it work?” She followed him into the hallway.

“I think I might be more persuasive in person, so I ended up setting up a meeting for tomorrow with their head of accounting.” He unlocked his door and let her inside.

The place was nothing like what she had been expecting. She had assumed it would be something of a bachelor pad, with sleek, modern, characterless furnishings. What she was met with was the exact opposite. The apartment had a surprisingly homey feel to it, with a plush leather sofa, warm lighting, a grand dining table flanked by benches, and a well-planned kitchen.

“I’m sorry it’s a little messy.” He said, looking about as if seeing his own little piles of books and papers for the first time.

“It’s fine.” She studied the personal touches here and there, pictures of his family members, mementos from abroad, heirloom furniture.

He made for the hall off of the living area, “I’ve moved your things to the guest room, so you can get ready in there.”

Liz thanked him and stepped inside to ready herself. The room had been painted a deep purple color and featured dark wood furnishings and a light floral bedspread. If she had to guess, she would have said Maggie had decorated this particular room. After inspecting the photos propped up on the dresser, which showed Harry and Maggie on a South American trip, Liz began getting ready. She dressed in a crimson dress, with a high neck, open back, long sleeves, and a hem just above the knee. Unable to properly arrange her hair, Liz wove it into a fishtail braid over her shoulder. After she finished with her makeup she stepped into her heels and crept to the living area uncertainly.

There she found Harry lounging on the sofa in his suit, black on black. It was a classic look, and it suited him well. “Oh, Liz.” He said, standing when he spotted her. “You look… wonderful.”

“You don’t have to…” She said softly, immediately wishing she could back track. Turning down a compliment, especially the way she had done, was rather rude. “Thank you,” She corrected herself, “You look very nice yourself.”

“Shall we?” He asked, getting the door for her when she nodded her assent. 

Together they rode to the theater, While in the car Harry had her tell him about her job and classes, seemingly repaying her for having listening to him talk about his day. When the car rolled to a stop at the red carpet, Harry stepped out and turned back to hand her out of the back seat. “You ready for this?” He asked. It was only their second “public” appearance, as opposed to their staged candid dates.

“Mmm hmm.” She smoothed out her dress before she took the hand he offered her, and let him lead her to the carpet rolled out before the press with their hoots and hollers, flashes and snaps.

The cameras turned to them when they were spotted approaching, and so their show began. The hand holding, the affectionate glances, the intimate poses all part of their elaborate song and dance. 

Halfway through Liz turned to address Harry over the din, “We should do a-“

“I can’t…” He motioned to his ear, indicating that he couldn’t hear her.

In the same moment Harry bent down and Liz stretched onto her tippy toes, Harry instinctively put a hand on her waist to steady her. “We should do an interview.” She said when their cheeks were beside one another.

He leaned away from her and nodded, before allowing her to lead the way to a reporter.

“Liz, Liz!” The reported called out.

“Hey Monica.” Liz replied as she got closer. She had interviewed with Monica a few times before and trusted that the reporter wouldn’t ask any uncomfortable questions.

“You two are looking fantastic tonight.”

“Thank you.”

“Looking like a couple.”

Liz giggled, “Yeah.”

“We’ve all seen the photos. You guys seem like you’re having fun.”

“We are.” Harry replied.

“Tell me, I know there is some age difference here, do you guys think the age gap works?”

“Look, Monica.” Liz said, “I wanted a man, not a boy. The age gap is perfect.”

Harry put his hand on Liz’s shoulder, as he laughed.

“Are you guys looking forward to the movie tonight?” Monica smoothly changed the subject, knowing she had acquired a great sound bite.

“I’m a huge Mission Impossible fan, so, yes I’m really excited.” Harry replied.

“Alright you two.” Monica seemed ready to wrap up their brief interview, “You two have a fun night.”

Once inside, Harry led the way to their seats, off to one side and up in the balcony. Her hand in his, they walked together through the theater, speaking to a few people she knew as they bumped into them. Unsure how to refer to Harry, she introduced him as her boyfriend, which earned a few wide-eyed looks from her friends and acquaintances. 

Maybe it was because they she had never really had a boyfriend. Maybe it was their age gap. Maybe it was the fact that they were associated with companies whose former CEOs had had such a public feud. Liz wasn’t sure what surprised people the most, and she honestly didn’t care.

“So,” Harry said, as they settled into their seats. “I’m your boyfriend now, am I?”

She felt a heat wash over her from head to foot, and thanked goodness that it was dim in the theater already, for surely she was blushing. Maybe there was one opinion that she hadn’t counted on caring about. “Aren’t you?” 

“Well, we hadn’t talked about it.” There was something new in his tone she hadn’t really heard before. She couldn’t parcel out whether he was serious or not.

“I’m sorry.” She felt fairly embarrassed and a little awkward, and began to compulsively pull on the hem of her dress, “I just thought that, with the agreement and… well, you know.”

Harry flashed a smile her way, “I’m terribly offended.” He said, all amusement. 

“Harry!” Liz chided before he shushed her, placing a hand over her’s.

“The movie is starting, have you no manners?” 

This earned a real laugh from Liz. Not one of those fake flirtatious giggles she had used back on the carpet during the interview, but a real laugh, a real emotion.

The movie was wonderful, but all too soon it was over and the time had come to leave. She and Harry compared their overall impressions of the film before discussing the finer plot points. Talk of the movie followed them on the car ride all the way back to his place, discussing the characters, various scenes, lines they loved and motives they didn’t understand. 

They returned to his apartment, so Liz could gather her things and the set of clothes she had originally arrived in. “Actually.” She said, pausing in the hallway outside the door to the guest bedroom, as he made for the master, “Do you mind if I change here? I’d just be so much more comfortable in the clothes I was wearing before.”

“Not at all.” Harry replied, before leaving her to it.

As she shimmied out of the tight red dress, Liz could hear her phone going off. It was Jamie.

_About that raincheck… there’s a party tonight, you want to go with me?_

It was tempting. She could always sneak off to the party, have a good time, and sneak back home. No one would ever find out. Besides, didn’t she deserve to have a real date? She turned off her phone screen without responding and continued dressing. The more she thought about it, though, the sillier it seemed. Plus, if word did get out that she had been seen with some other guy it could really ruin things for her mom and the business. Not to mention, Harry would probably be disappointed that she hadn’t held up her end of the deal.

She piled her things back into her bag before heading out towards the entrance. Harry was already on the sofa in his sweatpants, an old Hofstra tee shirt, and his black frame glasses, watching TV. “Thanks for everything tonight.” She said.

“No problem.”

She glanced past him at the television screen, “What are you watching?”

“Seinfeld.” When he noticed that the name didn’t ring a bell he continued in a tone of disbelief, “Have you never seen Seinfeld?”

“No, what is it?”

He bit his lip and looked heavenward, as if searching for the right description. “It’s a comedy show, just sort of about everyday things, but humorous… it’s great, just trust me.”

“I will.”

“Actually,” He seemed a little uncertain, “If you want you can stay and watch it.” Then he hastily added, “That is, if you’re not doing anything.”

“Uh… yeah,” She set down her bags, “Yeah, no, I’m not doing anything.” The idea of staying in with a nice guy and just watching TV was somehow more appealing than going out with her crush.

Maybe she didn’t want the guy who didn’t read all the books, maybe she didn’t want the guy who only did half the assignment, maybe she didn’t want the guy who wanted to show her off at parties. Maybe what she had said earlier on the red carpet was closer to the truth than she had intended. Maybe she did want someone who put in the extra effort, who tried their hardest, who took the time to get to know her. Maybe, after all, she did want a man. And what could it hurt for her to find out if that was what she wanted?

She fired of a quick text to Jamie as she kicked off her shoes.

_I probably should have been clearer the other day, I have a boyfriend. I’ll talk with you Tuesday after class about our progress on the project._

With that taken care of, Liz joined Harry on the sofa for the evening.


	3. Finding New Ground

Hanging out with Harry one on one, with no ulterior motive or for the reason of making a public appearance had not been nearly as awkward or strange as Liz had first thought it would be. Sitting on the sofa and watching television had been kind of nice, actually. There was no pressure to look perfect and behave unnaturally. After a few episode and after it had grown fairly late Liz announce she had to go. Harry played the perfect gentleman and called her a cab as he escorted her out of the building.

The days that followed passed in a blur, as she buckled down on her English writing project. The weekend was largely spent sitting in the university library pouring over her novel selection and the keys of her laptop. She wanted to have her part done before she met with Jaime on Tuesday, and she had advised him to do the same so they could write the third section together during the following week.

She watched the world pass by her window in the lulls between inspiration. The temperature had dropped considerably in the past few days and the trees had shed their leaves for good. The bitter winds that were carried by the ocean, into the bay, and up the Hudson came howling down the streets of the city. There was something in the snap of cold freshness that hinted at snow, and soon. Women had traded in their jackets for coats and men had begun to don their caps and scarves. Winter was well and truly underway.

On Monday morning, as she admired the newly hung Christmas lights adorning the shop across the street, Liz received a text. 

_Coffee? I can come meet you on campus._

Liz tapped back her reply, _Sure, but I haven’t got that much time. I have class at 10._ The semester was winding down for the holidays and she had asked her boss at York Enterprises to cut back her hours so she could focus on her final papers and projects. But even without the added load of work, school was proving to more than fill her time.

_Java Joe’s in fifteen?_

_I’ll be there._

She packed up her things into her tote and silently made her way through the library. She hadn’t made much of an effort getting dressed that morning, and hoped that whatever press her and Harry received from this little outing would be kind. These days she only scanned the coverage very briefly, making sure it was positive for the most part. Her mother, on the other hand, had become an avid consumer, and would sometimes give her tips on what she could be doing better.

As Liz neared the coffee shop she spotted Harry loitering outside the door, a gray overcoat buttoned up over his suit. “Cold enough for ya?” She asked as he greeted her with a peck on the cheek, before getting the door for her.

“Yes, definitely.” He followed her into the café. “How is the end of the semester going for you?”

She pulled off her gloves as she joined the queue. “A little hectic. I can’t wait for the break, and Christmas.” She turned to look up at him as he joined her in the line, his nose and cheeks were reddened by the blustery wind and cold. She imagined that under his dark curls even his ears had gone red.

“Are there any classes or finals that you are nervous about.”

“Nah.” She combed her fingers through her own wind-tossed hair, “I feel pretty good about all my classes. Though I do have one group project…”

Harry smiled knowingly and closed his eyes. “Ah, yes, group projects. How loathsome.”

Before she knew it, it was Liz’s turn to order. Harry kindly paid for their drinks before they shuffled off to wait for their orders to come up at the bar. “Hey, Liz, look, I know we have been dating…” Harry cut himself off to correct himself, “I mean ‘dating’,” he made air-quotes as he said the word, “For a few months here. I wanted to see what your thoughts were on spending Christmas together.” 

She watched as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his overcoat, only to pull them out again in an instant and begin popping his fingers, as she contemplated the proposal. “I think that’s a great idea. What did you have in mind?” She said at long last.

“Well, I don’t know what you normally do. But, my step-dad has this place out in the Hamptons and we usually go there for Christmas. To get out of the city, you know.”

“Oh,” a trip. A trip, together. With family. She had been expecting some Christmas Eve gala or Holiday benefit. But a family get-together? It seemed a little…. Personal. A little intimate, even. “Well, I, uh…”

“Hey, Liz!”

She was saved from having to formulate an immediate response by the sound of a familiar voice cutting in. “Hey, Jaime.”

“I didn’t think we were meeting here until tomorrow?”

This piqued Harry’s interest, clearly, as one brow raised over a gray eye. Liz, for her part, was doing her best to control the rapid beating of her heart that began when Jaime came to stand close next to her in the crowded café.

“Yeah, we’re still on to meet up and discuss our project tomorrow after class.” She clarified for Harry’s benefit. “Have you got your part done yet?”

“Sort of.”

It was Liz’s turn to look confused, “Sort of? Well, will it be done by tomorrow?”

“This one.” Jaime said to Harry with a mischievous grin as he clapped Liz on the shoulder, “Does she always worry so much about stuff?” The hand lingered on her shoulder still.

Harry looked somewhat surprised. “Liz is very serious about her studies.” Was all he could say.

“Aw, I’m just playing man.” Jaime’s hand dropped from her shoulder as he took a step backward. “Look I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, if I don’t talk to you sooner.” And with that sentiment Jaime turned on his heel and left.

“Who was that guy?” Harry asked, scooping up their coffee order to hand off Liz’s drink to her. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should have introduced you.” Her upbringing had taught her the multifaceted importance of introduction, and ingrained the basic social grace into her, so she was surprised she had failed in this regard. “That was Jaime, we’re doing a group project for our literature class.”

“Alright.” He led the way to the door, “Shall I walk you to your next class?”

“Sure.” Liz sipped her latte before they ventured across the street and back toward campus.

Harry didn’t move to hold her hand, like he sometimes did in public. She wondered if it had to do with the awkward run-in in the coffee shop, she couldn’t help but notice how guarded Harry had seemed around Jaime. Maybe she was reading too much into it though, maybe his hands were simply cold.

“So, about Christmas.” He broached the topic once more, “I know it’s sort of not fair for me to ask you to do something so… involved. It’s just… the Hamptons at Christmas, I know there will be plenty of press, plus it has the added dimension of you being with my family… and…”

“No, I think…” She interrupted his scattered train of thought, “I think it’s a good idea. I’ll have to run it past my mom. And Cecily will be devastated that I won’t be home for the holidays. But, I think it’s a really great idea.”

“I’m glad you think so.” He cast a sidelong smile at her before his attention was diverted by photographers traveling in a pack across the street. “I think we’ve been spotted.”

****

“Oh, thank goodness you’re home.”

Liz was rather surprised to see her mother waiting with her tablet on the living room sofa when she came home from campus. And she was rather more surprised to hear Beth’s greeting. “Why?” She asked warily, eyeing her mother.

“It’s Cecily.”

The very words inspired dread. Cecily had always been a little mischievous, even wayward, and had had her fair share of scrapes with public embarrassment already. That, and her relative youth, were why she and her mother tried their best to shield Cecily from the press. “What about her?” She sighed.

Beth hesitated, “Well, more specifically Cecily and Ralph.”

“Cecily assured me things between them were over.” She protested even as her mother patted the sofa beside her, a command for her daughter to sit. As she set down her bag and dropped onto the cushion beside Beth she couldn’t help but notice the picture displayed on her mother’s tablet. Cecily and Ralph standing together outside of a shop window, clearly deep in conversation. “When were those taken? They have to be old, Cecily promised me she was done with him.”

“Clearly not. These are from yesterday afternoon.” Beth pursed her lips.

“Maybe they were just meeting up, some sort of closure thing…” But the next photo her mother scrolled to proved Liz dead wrong. Cecily walking hand in hand with Ralph, that unmistakable look on her face, the look that said he was her whole world. “Oh gosh.”

“Liz,” Her mother shut off the screen and laid the tablet aside, “Please talk to her. I’d do it myself, but… she doesn’t seem to listen to me at all anymore. You’re the only one who can get through to her.”

“Mom, she already knows what I think of the guy…” 

“Just, please, Liz. For me.”

She nodded. This was important, not just for the company, or herself, or her mother. It was important for Cecily. Ralph was nothing but bad news, and neither she nor her mother, nor anyone really, could fathom what they saw in each other. Ralph had been a mid-level executive who had played an instrumental role in having her father voted out as CEO of York Enterprises shortly before his death. It was true, Ralph had been manipulated, to some extent, by those with more power than him. But Ralph himself had been a willing participant and neither she nor her mother could ever forgive his actions. What had driven Cecily into his arms remained a mystery. Liz had tried to drag out the exact story from time to time without success. Cecily simply insisted that Ralph wasn’t at all like they thought.

Compounded on top of his distasteful behavior and unsavory past was their age gap. At only sixteen years old, Ralph was nearly fifteen years her sister’s senior. She had to seriously question why a man that age would want to be with a high school girl.

That night, long after dinner, Liz crept to Cecily’s room. “You still up?” She called softly through the door.

“Yeah,” Cecily responded and Liz slipped inside. “Just doing some last minute cramming for finals.”

“C.” She referred to her sister by her pet name as she came to sit with her on the bed, moving aside a book. “You know how you told me you were done with Ralph?”

Cecily bit her lip and moved to sit cross-legged, her eyes went steely. “Mmm hmm.”

“Well, are you? Really?” 

“Did mom send you here?” There was an accusatory tone to her voice, sharp and cold.

Liz refused to let her sister’s demeanor dictate her own. “Yes.” She replied calmly, “But I would have come even if she hadn’t asked. I love you and I’m worried about you.”

“You’re just worried about your public image.” Cecily retaliated.

“Please, C. Nothing is more important to me than family. I maintain my public image for the company, for this family.” She shook her head, she had allowed her sister to sidetrack her. “Look, the point is, Ralph is terrible for you. Look at what he did to dad, and look at what that did to our family. How can you trust him?”

“You just don’t know him Liz.”

“I don’t need to know him Cecily.” She insisted, “And quite frankly, I don’t want to. Look, he’s far too old for you, it’s improper and depending on things… it could be a felony.”

“Liz!” Cecily cried harshly.

“Cecily, no.” Her own voice took on an edge, a warning. “With so many people telling you it’s wrong, I can’t see how you think this could possibly be right.” She stood and moved to the door, “Have some integrity, Cecily,” She said, warily before she closed the door behind her.

Back in her own room she crawled onto her own bed and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to decompress after her discussion with her sister. Threats would only drive Cecily from reason, she had to invite her sister to find reason in her own way and in her own time. Her laptop chimed and Liz rolled off her bed to sit at her desk. It was an invite to video chat.

“Hey Liz.” A familiar blonde headed hunk popped up on her dash when she clicked into the conversation.

“Hey.”

“I’m nearly done with my paper, I just had a question.” She couldn’t help but notice how nice his arms looked in his sleeveless shirt.

“Fire away.” She tried to sound casual.

“Will you be looking over my portion? Analysis isn’t really my strong suit, and I want to make sure our project is awesome.”

She hadn’t really factored in that task when she had mentally allotted her time out for final assignments, but she supposed it wouldn’t be that big of a task. “Yeah, just, send me whatever you have now and I can give it a look.”

“Cool.” He grinned, “Maybe you can give me your edits tomorrow at out meeting so I can work on it.”

She halted in her mental calculations, “Oh, you want me to have looked at it by tomorrow?”

“Yeah, it shouldn’t be that bad.”

“Well, I’ll see if I can get to it.” 

“Hey Liz,” his grin widened, “That guy you were with the other day at Joe’s… was that your boyfriend?”

A part of her wanted to deny it, and hey he wasn’t really anyway, right? “Uh, yeah.” 

“Dude, Liz,” He chuckled, “What’s the deal with that?”

She hesitated, “What do you mean?”

“That guy, he’s like, way older than you. At least five years.”

“Ten years.” She corrected.

He laughed, “Liz, that’s insane? What do you see in him?”

A small part of her felt slightly insulted. What would be so wrong with her if she did, in fact, like someone like Harry? “He’s really quite nice and very…”

“Old.” Jaime supplied sarcastically. “I just don’t get why a girl like you would choose him over a guy like me.”

“Are you saying…” She arched an eyebrow in disbelief, “That you and I would make a better couple?”

“Liz, come on, we both know it. Look, when you’re done with that guy give me a call.”

His straightforwardness rather shocked her and Liz flailed for an appropriate response. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

Her meeting with Jaime the next day proved to be rather unproductive and Liz ended up suggesting that she make a rough draft of the third section, which he could then flesh out, and she could later edit. Jaime readily agreed and they went their separate ways.

It was later that week one afternoon while she was making the final edit on the group project, that Liz received an unexpected call from Harry. He had finally received his promised promotion to CFO. After Liz had congratulated him and he had invited her to dinner to celebrate. “Somewhere quiet and out of the way.” He had said.

When she arrived at the agreed upon restaurant that evening in her deep blue dress and nude heels Harry was already waiting inside at their table.

“Congrats, Harry,” She said as she approached.

He stood and pressed a kiss to her cheek, though there was hardly anyone around to notice. It appeared to have become instinct to him at this point. “Thanks.”

“I know,” She said as he got her chair for her, “How hard you have worked for it. You really do deserve it.”

This seemed to light up his features. “I took the liberty of ordering us some champagne.” He said, motioning to the approaching waiter, “I hope you don’t mind.”

She shook her head and he raised his glass in a toast, “To…” He paused and searched for the words, “To all new things.”

It was an odd toast, but she was sure it meant something to Harry.

“So, when are all your classes done? Or are they done already?” He changed gears quickly.

“I turn in my last final assignment tomorrow morning.”

“This close to Christmas?”

She nodded, “They really do keep us going until the last minute.”

“So,” he set down his glass, “I hope I’m not keeping your from your work.”

“No, I’m almost done with it. It’s that group project.” He phone buzzed in her purse and she automatically pulled it out. “Speak of the devil.” She muttered.

She noticed Harry’s expression change for just a moment. “Is that your partner?”

“Yeah.” She admitted as she read the message.

“I hope it doesn’t have to do with any last minute work…” He flicked open his menu.

“No, not at all.” She reassured him.

Harry’s eyes scanned the listings of offerings. “Does it have to do with the project at all?”

She was silent a moment.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t intrude.” He sighed, “It’s none of my business. None of this is any of my business.” His voice grew quiet with the last bit.

She could sense that something was off, “I’m sorry.” Was all she could think to say.

“I just have to say…” He seemed to pluck up a little more intensity than she had seen before, “That… that guy, he’s all wrong for you.”

“Excuse me.” Liz’s jaw nearly dropped.

He couldn’t seem to look at her. “I saw the way you were looking at each other the other day, and I know that you like him. But Liz,” He tried to meet her eye, “That guy, he looked at you like… a thing, not a person. Besides, I can tell with this project that he is just using you. He wouldn’t be good to you.”

“Well,” She smoothed her cloth napkin over her lap, “I can’t imagine how you were able to derive all of that from a three minute conversation. But… thank you for the unsolicited advice.”

Harry drew a hand over his face and exhaled deeply. “I’m sorry, maybe this whole dinner idea was a mistake.”

“Harry, no.” But even she knew her whole heart wasn’t in the protestation.

“I shouldn’t have… said the things I said. I was out of line.” He continued to avoid her gaze.

Suddenly it struck her, he was uncomfortable, aloof, and lacking of his normal steady self-control. Was it possible that he was… jealous? Certainly not, she reassured herself. Harry knew their deal. Maybe he was afraid that she would blow the whole delicately constructed image. That was the more likely explanation.  
“I’m sorry,” She said, unsure of what, exactly, she was supposedly sorry for. All she knew was that she wanted to salvage their evening and fulfill her end of the contract. “We can just forget it and move on. I’ll be more focused on what we are doing moving forward, I promise.”

His lip twisted at the corner, “And I’ll try to invade your privacy less.” He said.

“I was no invasion.” She said, taking up her menu, maybe honesty and openness would help soothe things. “You are probably right about Jaime anyway. He hasn’t exactly been pulling his own weight and he’s been rather too forward.” She cringed inwardly, she rarely let anyone in on her thoughts, least of all ones as private as these. It was probably why her closest girl friend was her own sister. “Anyway, what are you ordering?

Harry resumed his study of his menu. “Did you want to start off sharing some oysters?”

Their dinner passed pleasantly enough, Liz asked about what his new job would be like and after some urging had described his new duties to her, repeatedly asking whether he was boring her. She asked if he had been able to persuade the electrical company that there was an error in their billing, at which point he had laughed and responded in the affirmative. He asked after his mother, who he confessed, he had run into at lunch the week prior.

As desert arrived Harry asked, “So are we still on for Christmas?”

“Uh,” She was caught a little off-guard. “Yeah, I talked to my mom and she gave me the green light, so yeah, we’re on.”

“Great.” He stuck his fork into his chocolate lava cake, “I was thinking of driving up in three days, I’ll just pick you up?”

“Sure.” She nodded and dug into her own tiramisu.

****

The drive had become much more scenic after Harry got off the L.I.E. to take highway 27 up the island. Liz was enjoying the landscapes just outside her passenger side window, watching as the trappings of the city and its surrounding suburbs gradually melted away the further they drove. More and more bare trees lined the roads, glimpses of the overcast heather gray sky above just visible between the web of branches. 

The ride had been quiet and she had slipped into a nap between New Hyde Park and Ronkonkoma, the soft sounds of the radio lulling her to sleep. But now she was wide awake. “We should be able to see the ocean here in a minute, now that we’re close to Hampton Bays.” Harry said, guiding his Range Rover deftly into the far left lane to bypass some slower traffic.

“How much further is it?”

“Only about forty minutes.”

“Who knew an island could be so big.” She yawned.

“Have you never been to the Hamptons?” He asked in disbelief.

She shook her head no, “If we ever vacationed on the Island it was always Port Jeff and Jones Beach, just day trips. Mom and dad had a cabin out in Colorado we’d go to in the winter. When they got away from the city they always went as far as they could get.”

“What happened to the cabin?”

Liz shrugged, “Mom still has it, it’s one of the few things she kept after dad died. We haven’t been back since though. She just rents the place out these days. The income really came in handy when…” She hadn’t meant to talk about her dad, or the hard times, she had never so much as mentioned it to Harry. But she couldn’t very well stop now, in the middle of her story. “When times were tough.” She wrapped it up succinctly. 

“Well, I think you’re really going to like the beach house.” Harry said. “Mom and Thom won’t be in until tomorrow, so it will be fairly quiet tonight. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” 

As Harry had supposed, Liz did, in fact, like the house. It was an older home with white trim and natural wood shingle siding weathered by the sea spray and salty winds. The wide front porch wrapped all the way around the home, ensuring superior views of the see from all angles. Inside the home was incredibly large but somehow also cozy, with refinished hand-scraped wood floors, brick fireplaces everywhere, and plush rugs lying in every room.

“I’ll take your things up to your room and then maybe we can order some take away?” Harry suggested.

“Sounds good.” She followed him up to the guest room, where an iron bed stood surrounded on three sides by oversized windows. 

“You get some great views from up here.” Harry said, setting down her suit case as he admired the choppy ocean just outside the windows, the stormy dark clouds hanging low over the waters.

Liz was only just aware how alone they were. With no one in the house, and no city just outside the door she felt Harry’s presence more keenly. She made a covert study of him while his attention was engaged by the world outside. He seemed relaxed, more easy in her company than he had been when they first met. Gone was the stiffness and formality he had greeted her with a mere few months ago.

“Shall I order that take away now?” He asked, turning to face her, “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on,” he said, pulling on her hand, “We have some menus down in the kitchen.”

As she followed him down the stairs she couldn’t help but notice how blurred the line had seemingly become. More and more she found both she and Harry did things together because they wanted to, not because they had to. Or at least, she knew she felt that way, she wondered if he did too. It was all rather confusing and the neat compartmentalization of their relationship in her brain had broken down quite a bit, she realized, in just the last two weeks. Liz had always prided herself on her ability to keep her personal life neat, no matter what outside factors tried to affect it. The lack of organization rather scared her. 

“Now don’t fill up too much.” Harry said, pulling out the stack of take-out menus and dropping them on the kitchen island. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and mom has this one gigantic continuous meal that starts at two and just goes until everyone eventually falls asleep.”

“Remind me again who is coming.” Liz asked, shuffling through the papers.

“My step-dad’s kids. My step-brothers I guess you would call them. George his wife Joan and their kids. Then there’s Ed and his wife Anne, they don’t have any kids. And then there’s Jim and he’ll probably bring whatever girl he’s dating this week.” Harry grinned wickedly.

“Sounds like a full house.” She studied a seafood menu,

“Yeah, well,” he came to stand next to her at the kitchen island and look over the menu as well, “enjoy the peace and quiet while you can.”

They ate their dinner in the den after Harry had built up a fire in the hearth, and watched White Christmas together. Towards the end of the film Liz happened to catch Harry dozing off, his head propped up on a pillow pressed against the arm of the sofa. It had been a long drive and, she suspected, a very long week.

Finding herself not very tired at all, Liz got up and crossed the room to the bookshelves. Something about the fire made her want to curl up with a book. The selection of literature in the vacation house was mostly limited to the classics, with a few errant romance novels she imagined had been left behind by guests. 

“What time is it?” Harry’s voice behind her on the sofa came out rather raspy, she turned to see him rubbing his eyes and just sitting up.

“About ten.” She hugged her arms to herself. “I think you may have nodded off there for a bit.”

“No kidding.” He blinked and then yawned. “I’m sorry I’m such a party pooper. I think I’m gonna head up to bed.”

“Alright.” She shuffled her feet as he stood, “Well, I’ll see you in the morning.”

He stopped in front of her on his way out of the den and seemed to hesitate for a prolonged moment. “Good night.” He said at last and left to climb the stairs up to his room. If Liz didn’t know any better she could have thought he meant to say goodnight some other way.

Returning her attention to the bookshelf she selected Jane Austen’s “Northanger Abbey” and curled up on the sofa by the fire with it. She had always loved this book. The dark brooding sentiments of an otherwise optimistic but frequently befuddled heroine were something she felt she could identify with in the story of her own life. She knew the book well and flipped forward to her favorite part, where Catherine searches the Abbey alone to try and find the deceased Mrs. Tilney’s rooms but instead makes a fool of herself in front of Mr. Tilney. There was something horrifically captivating about his disappointment in her, her being turned out of the house, and their ultimate reconciliation. 

She had become quite enraptured with the book, flipping through page after page, all but forgetting the book in her hand or the words on the page as she had mentally stepped into the world painted for her. She wasn’t even aware that she was reading, any longer, so deep was she in reverie with the book. And then she heard a noise on the stair.

“You’re still up?” Harry appeared in the doorway, clad in a pair of black cotton sweat pants and a tee.

“I just wanted to finish my book, and the fire is just so nice.” Liz placed a bookmark on her page in the book as she motioned to the blaze in the hearth. “But maybe you’re right, it is getting late.”

“Nearly one a.m.”

She stood, “And what are you doing up?”

He raked his fingers through his auburn curls, “I couldn’t sleep, and thought I’d get some fresh air.” He turned his gray eyes on her, “Care to join me?”

The idea of a cold ocean breeze laced with just a hint of salt did sound rather inviting. Not only that, but the sound of the crash of waves and the company were rather enticing as well. “Sure.”

Harry held out his hand to Liz, and as she took it she raised her eyes, “Harry…” She indicated the mistletoe dangling just above his head.

“I know.” Was all he said, pulling her to him suddenly, enveloping her in his embrace as he kissed her full on the mouth.

Surprised as she was, it only took Liz moments to find herself kissing him back eagerly, her hands sliding from his shoulders to slowly and instinctively tangle in his hair. Something about the kiss just felt right, which rather startled her.

She broke away for a moment, a little breathless, “Harry this wasn’t… this isn’t… what are we doing?”

“Don’t overthink it.” His arms were still around her, holding her to him. He then slowly bent down to kiss her a second time, gently, tenderly. “Merry Christmas, Liz.”


	4. The Eve

Liz opened her suitcase atop the dresser and dug through it looking for her sweater. There was a chill in the room and she could tell that it was going to be a cold day. A light knock at the door made her jump momentarily. “Come in,” She called, her back to the entrance. It could only be Harry, of course.

The door creaked open on its hinges. “I just wanted to say… it’s uh,” There was the soft squeak of floorboards under foot and Liz could tell he was nearing her, “It’s supposed to rain later on so,” He was right behind her, she could tell without looking, could sense his presence, “You should really dress warm.” His voice was a suppressed whisper, a breath on the back of her neck. And then his lips were on her neck, caressing her tender skin, his arms wrapping about her.

She turned in his embrace to meet the hot kiss he pressed to her lips. He automatically pushed the suitcase to the side and hoisted her to perch on the top of the dresser. Elizabeth had never been kissed like this before, and although a touch nervous, she welcomed it, completely lost in the passion.

Again his lips were on her neck. “Harry…” She whispered and he hummed a question against her skin, a wonderful sensation. “Harry.” More sharp now.

“Yeah?”

She licked her lips, “What are you doing? We can’t…” But her argument fell apart as her fingers buried in his curls.

“Don’t say you don’t like it.” He flashed her an impish grin before kissing her again.

“It’s not that I don’t…” His hands were traveling up her thighs now. 

“Then why stop?” He muttered between kisses.

He had a point, one she was all too willing to agree with just now. “Because we were just supposed to pretend.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Harry took a step back, his shyness gone and replaced with a more direct gaze. His gray eyes seemed all the more inviting now, and his lips were swollen from kissing, his bedraggled hair was tousled, her own doing. He wasn’t abashed, he knew her answer even if she did not.

“Oh god, no.” She fell into his arms again and...

Liz rolled over, vaguely aware of the annoying noise as she vacillated between wake and sleep. Blindly she groped about for the source, her hand eventually closing around her phone before she managed to switch off the loud alarm. In a daze she sat up and yawned. She was vaguely aware of the fact that she had been woken mid-dream, and briefly wondered what it was her mind had been so engrossed in only moments ago. 

And then she remembered, her cheeks blossoming a bright pink hue. Such scandalous thoughts were usually far from her mind. Sure there were guys that she had liked before, but she had never before had a dream about a guy, at least not about any specific guy. But what had prompted such an unusual dream? She flushed anew with the recollection of the kiss they had shared the night before. Silently she rose from the bed, cursing her mind for the places it had wandered to unbidden in the night, she didn’t need it bringing up the question of feelings. Feelings were complicated things, things which could distract her from her goals.

The house was quiet, incredibly quiet. Liz tip toed past Harry’s bedroom door, silently praying she would not accidentally tread on a squeaky bit of wood flooring. As she reached the head of the stairs she realized her fears were unfounded. The scent of brewing coffee wafting up from the kitchen was a dead giveaway that he was already up and about. 

Liz found a clean mug standing at the ready beside the coffee pot, with sugar and cream also set out for her. It was a small, but considerate gesture which she appreciated. As she fixed her drink Liz’s mind went back to the night before, her fingers absent-mindedly touching her lips. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt. Her mind was filled with a mixture of excitement, nervous anticipation, and crippling apprehension. She fairly dreaded her first encounter with Harry that morning, which was, of course, unavoidable for obvious reasons.

Glancing out the window over the porcelain farmhouse sink she could see Harry relaxing on one of the Adirondack chairs on the back porch, the gray waves crashing against the shore visible beyond the dunes beyond.

Sighing, Liz resigned herself to the fact that she’d better get it over sooner rather than later. Leaving it too long would only make things awkward. Shrugging on the flannel-lined waxed canvas barn coat she found on a peg by the back door, she made her way outside.

Harry turned to face her as she closed the French door behind her. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” She tried to keep her tone light, and unaffected, even if she could barely make eye contact with him, the thought of his hands running up her thighs in her dream the night before danced through her mind. “Have you been up long?”

“No, not at all.” His attention returned to the unchanging scenery before him as he sipped his coffee. “Did you sleep well?”

“Uh,” in fact, she had not. She had lay awake far too long after heading to bed, her thoughts lingering on that kiss. “Yeah, I slept well. You?”

“I did too… after getting some things off my mind.” There was a terrific twist to his lips, she noticed.

Unsure of how to respond, and rather embarrassed for a whole myriad of reasons, Liz sipped on her coffee before tying up her wind-tossed hair. She rather thought that she spied a red tint to Harry’s cheeks as she did so. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled quietly, still grinning.

“Don’t…” Liz bit her lip to keep her own smile at bay. Her eyes met Harry’s for a brief moment, and there was enough in the look to assure her that he really was not sorry.

“I thought maybe we could go out and get some breakfast, then maybe head to the market. There is literally nothing to eat in this house.”

“Alright, I’ll just go get changed and we can go.” Liz stood.

“Oh, ok.”

Back in the house Liz set her mug in the kitchen sink before climbing the stairs to her room. It hadn’t been so awkward, she tried to tell herself as she trod down the hall, but even she couldn’t deny that there was definitely some sort of tension between them. Harry, although more relaxed, still seemed to be holding back. She wasn’t sure that she wanted him to let go, either. A part of her wasn’t ready to embark on the journey he had hinted at the night before. But if she was being completely honest with herself, the other part of her was curious about the road it would lead down.

The trip to the market proved successful. Not only were they able to find all of the food they needed, or more particularly, the food that Maggie indicated she needed on the list she had emailed to Harry, but just as Harry had predicted the paparazzi had migrated north for the season. There was a healthy flock of them in the downtown area, just waiting to snap some photos of celebrities sneaking in some last minute holiday shopping. And the backdrop could not have been more lovely, all the quaint shops decorated with pine boughs, flickering candles, and holly, while holiday banners streamed from every lamp post that lined the streets.

Liz and Harry had put on their normal show, holding hands, smiling, the whole bit. But she couldn’t shake a nagging feeling that the fakeness would soon start to show through. That all too soon they would be discovered and the charade would be over. Her mother had assured her, when it all began, that the merger wouldn’t take very long. But here she was nearly four months later, still keeping up the facade. Only now she was deeper in than she ever thought she would be. So deep in, she had nearly lost sight of what as real and what was not.

“Harry?” She said as she snapped in her seat belt. 

“Yeah?” He was intent on starting the car, and flicking on the seat warmers.

Liz sat on her hands to keep them warm, her gloves forgotten back at the house. “What are we doing?”

“Well, we’re going to go back to the house now and…” Harry turned to meet her look, a look he knew meant she was talking about something else entirely. Her brows high, eyes sad, and lips pursed into a half frown. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” She said slowly, reluctantly, as she looked dead ahead out the windshield while he pulled out onto the main road, “I mean, what’s going on with the merger?”

“Well, the companies are haggling over some points in the contract…”

“How long do you think that will go on?”

“I’m not sure.” He rubbed his temple wearily. “I know I’m not your first choice of person to hang out with, but-“

“I didn’t mean that at all!” Protested Liz. “I just… I don’t…” She wasn’t sure how to say it. “I don’t know what’s going on.” It seemed to cover the multitude of thoughts that banged around in her mind.

Harry sighed and made a left-hand turn. “I don’t really either.” 

There was a period of silence for a few blocks before Liz piped up again, attempting to broach the heavy silence that had fallen like a curtain between them, “When is your mom supposed to be here?”

“Around noon, I think.” He didn’t look at her. “And just so you know, no one but you, mom, and I are in on this whole, uh, dating thing, so… the rest of the family doesn’t know, and we should probably keep it that way.”

“Alright.” She could tell that her earlier line of questions had, perhaps, hurt him. He had gone out on a limb last night, after all. And here she was, asking when they could stop. But she was scared that the façade would soon blend in with her existing life, becoming indistinguishable.

Back in the house Liz retreated to her guest room while Harry went for a run on the beach. Finding herself alone, she knew she had to call Cecily, her closest confidante. 

“Liz?”

“C, I miss you. How’s Christmas?”

Cecily sighed, “First of all, chill, it’s not even been 24 hours. Second, it’s only Christmas Eve.”

“Hey, it’s my first Christmas away from home. I get to be dramatic. Tell me, what are you doing?” She sprawled atop the bed

There was a commotion in the background. “The house is overrun by the whole clan,” she said, referring to their seven younger siblings, who were in boarding school year round. “And soon the Woodville side of the family will be around for dinner. Grandma Cecily will be here tonight and tomorrow too.”

“Did she bring her fudge?”

“Of course. Hey, stop that!” Cecily scolded one of the younger children, “You’re gonna break it, stop.”

“Hey C?” She asked, when the moment passed.

“Yeah?”

“You know how we talked about Ralph?”

A deep sigh. “Yes, I know, Liz, I know. I’ve told him we can’t do that anymore and I’ve erased him from my phone.”

It seemed too good to be true. “Promise?”

“Yes, I promise.” She whined, which earned a laugh from her older sister.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“Hey, how are things over there. Weird?” Cecily changed gears quickly, more than eager to steer the conversation in another direction.

“Uh…” Liz groped for words, “sort of.”

“How’s that.”

She rolled on to her stomach and looked out the windows that sweeped across three walls. “It’s just… Harry kissed me.”

There was a moment of silence. “I’m sorry, am I supposed to be scandalized? Liz, he’s your pretend boyfriend, that goes with the territory. Don’t tell me you hadn’t kissed before. Even for you that’d be unbelievable.”

“No, no, we’d kissed before, for the cameras you know. No, this was different.”

“Go on.” She could just see Cecily in her mind, Cheshire cat grin playing on her sister’s her lips.

“Well.” Liz hesitated. “It was last night. I was reading a book downstairs, and he came down and invited me to go outside. When I got up he pulled me under the mistletoe and kissed me.”

“Details.” Her sister demanded, “How did he kiss you?”

“How many types kisses are there?”

“Gosh, Liz, you really need to get out more.” She said with exasperation. “Just tell me what it was like.”

“I don’t know. Powerful, but soft.” She squirmed, it felt odd telling Cecily such things. 

“Passionate?” Cecily offered.

She remembered Harry gripping her waist, hands sliding up her back, the press of his lips against hers. “Sure, I guess.”

“Glowing recommendation. Remind me not to kiss Tudor.” There was an implied eyeroll. “But seriously, passion comes from the heart. You can’t fake that. It sounds like you have him hooked.”

“That wasn’t the plan.” Liz said in an even tone.

“Who cares about a plan? Besides, it could be worse. I mean, Harry is a nice guy, great career, totally loaded, mom probably likes him… really, this is sort of best case scenario.”

“Cecily, it’s not that easy. We had this whole plan, this whole thing we’re supposed to be doing- and now it’s… well, it’s weird.“

“Look, Liz does he like you?”

She didn’t even think before she responded, a little too high pitched, “Gosh I have no idea, C!”

“And clearly, you like him.”

Liz gaped, “What? No. I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Well, it’s not true, anyway.” Liz crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well, I don’t see any other reason for us having this discussion. Clearly, you like him.”

She wrinkled her nose, “Hey, since when did I take relationship advice from you?”

“You’re welcome.” Cecily’s voice dripped with self-satisfaction.

Outside she spotted Harry jogging up from the high-tide line towards the dunes that sheltered the home. “Whatever, don’t tell mom any of this. Don’t tell anyone. In fact, forget this whole conversation.”

“Chill.” Cecily reminded her. “Hey, don’t get all wound up over this thing. Things could be a lot worse. Just, keep playing along. See where it goes.”

“Easy for you to say.” She heard the back door shut downstairs. “Look, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Noon rolled around quicker than Liz had expected, and Maggie was nothing if not punctual, pulling into the drive way just a few minutes before twelve. Harry came out to the driveway to help Thom unload their things from the black Cadillac Escalade they had arrived in. Meanwhile, Maggie had rushed up to where Liz stood on the porch. “I am just so glad you were able to come celebrate with us!” She said, greeting her with more warmth than Liz had initially thought the woman capable of.

“Well, thank you for inviting me.”

Maggie smiled, “Oh, it wasn’t me who invited you. Harry quite wanted you to come, it was his idea.” 

“Well, thank you all the same.”

“Come on, let’s go inside, the men don’t need us for all that grunt work. Did Harry give you a tour?” She made a sweeping motion with her arm as she entered the foyer, gesturing to the house in general.

“He showed me my room and I’ve explored a little bit.”

“Oh, well that won’t do.” Maggie shrugged off her coat and tossed it onto the chair in the hallway, “Let me show you around. It’s an old house, and we did a lot of renovations, but, it still has some stories.”

Maggie showed her the whole house top to bottom, she was particularly fond of showing Liz the family photos and heirlooms that seemed to be in every room. Harry caught up with them in the upstairs hall.

“Harry, were you staying in this room?” Maggie asked as she poked her head into one of the bedrooms.

“Yeah…” There was a question in his voice.

“No, no. You’ll have to stay in the other room with Liz.” 

Harry seemed to tense up. “There are enough rooms for everyone, mom. Besides, I don’t think anyone is expecting us to stay in the same room.” He looked to Liz, as if asking for her to back him up.

“Well, yes, no one is expecting that. It’s just, your uncle Jasper called, and he’s coming for Christmas too. He’ll be coming in this evening.”

“I can… stay in the den…” It was a last ditch suggestion.

“The children are staying in the den. Harry, for goodness sake, don’t make it awkward.” Maggie seemed exasperated. “I’m sure Liz hasn’t got cooties.”

When Maggie had turned to head back down the stairs Harry gave Liz a shrug, as if to say sorry. “It’ll be fine.” She said, “I really don’t mind.” But if she was being honest, she sort of did mind. After the kiss yesterday and the tension this morning, compounded by her confusing dream, Liz wasn’t sure what spending the night would be like. She could only imagine it would be awkward.

“Did you get the food like I asked?” Maggie called back over her shoulder as she descended the stairs.

“Yes, mom.” 

Suddenly the house was filled with more voices, young and old. “Sounds like George and Joan are here. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

The women worked together to prepare the meal, which they sat down to around two. As predicted, the meal lasted most of the day. Long after everyone was sated they were still sitting around the table drinking and talking. Thom, Maggie, Harry’s two step brothers, and their significant others were chattering down at one end of the table while Liz and Harry found themselves in conversation with Joan and George.

“So, how did you two meet?” Joan finally asked, pointing to Liz and Harry.

“Ah…” Liz began before she even knew what to say. Somehow they had never come up with a story, surprisingly it wasn’t a question they had ever been asked.

“I met Liz through her mother, Beth,” Harry supplied, “back when we were first considering the merger between York Enterprises and Tudor Construction. “ It was a truthful answer, but still somewhat evasive.

George joined in, “So, did you just ask her out one day out of the blue or…?”

“He sort of, asked if he could ask me out some time,” Liz said, “and I invited him to come with me to a red carpet event. Not an ideal first date, really.” Being a little tipsy, she only realized after she had said it that the story didn’t really mesh with what they had told reporters in the past. They had kept up the pretense that they had been quietly dating prior to their first red carpet appearance. “How did you meet?” She turned the question back on George and Joan, hoping they wouldn’t catch her mistake.

“Oh, back in college. We had a chemistry class together. Lab partners.” George said succinctly, “Not nearly as exciting as having a relationship covered by the press. How are you liking all the tabloids, Harry?” There was a laugh to his voice.

“Yeah, they’re wonderful.” Harry said sarcastically before taking a swig of beer.

“I’m surprised you went for a socialite like Liz, no offense to either of you.” Joan said, clearly the wine had affected her tact. “You’re just such a low key kind of guy, Harry.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of hard to believe.” George agreed with his wife. “I’m not trying to be mean but… it’s just Harry is kind of this, well, nerd… and Liz is this beautiful" he gestured to Liz generally, beer bottle in hand "… and then there’s the age gap… and, well…” Apparently he was even more affected by the alcohol than his wife.

Liz and Harry shared a look, before Harry turned back to George and Joan. “I just think I’m so lucky that such an intelligent, wonderful woman would even spend time with me.”

“But Liz, surely Harry is a bit old for you? And a bit of a bore?” George laughed. “He must buy you a lot of jewelry or something.”

Liz pursed her lips, rather insulted at the insinuation that she could be bought off like that. But more than that. She couldn’t help but wonder if maybe they weren’t fooling people at all. Didn’t they say that if you ever wanted to know the truth ask a drunk or a child? Well here were two very inebriated people telling Harry and Liz that they simply didn’t buy it.

“No, Harry’s much too smart to know that sort of thing never works out.” She pushed her chair back abruptly, “Excuse me, I’m going to go check on the desserts.” 

Once in the kitchen Liz opened the freezer and let the cold air wash over her face. So far nothing about this little vacation had gone as she had expected, and she was finding it all a bit unnerving and overwhelming.

“Hey, do you need any help with…” 

She turned to find Harry in the kitchen door, as she stepped away from the freezer.

Closing the door behind him, Harry moved toward her tentatively. “Are you ok?” 

“Yeah, fine.” Locating the cheesecake in the refrigerator she brought it out to lay on the countertop. “I just wanted to get this ready. There’s a strawberry topping for it somewhere around here.”

Harry leaned against the island, and opened his mouth to say something. Apparently thinking better of it, he closed his mouth again. The sentiment unshared. Liz didn’t mind. Either he would be asking her what was wrong or he would be apologizing for George and Joan, she predicted. Both things were better left unsaid.

Shortly after Liz brought the cake into the dining room, Jasper arrived. Still ruggedly handsome in his mid-fifties, Jasper was a lively sort, who greeted Liz with a warm and genuine smile. Once the table was cleared and the women had cleaned the dishes and put away the food the family had gathered in the great-room for some more talking and a little television.

It wasn’t until late in the evening that everyone retired to their rooms.

Harry was sitting in bed with a book when Liz returned from brushing her teeth, glasses rimmed his gray eyes as he scanned the page. She stood quietly for a moment after she had closed the door behind her, watching him in silence. A part of her couldn’t comprehend how she had found herself at this point in her life. A part of her wondered why she or Harry had even agreed to all this. More than anything she couldn’t understand how she felt about it anymore.

It was with trepidation that she crawled into the bed, slipping under the duvet with a heretofore unknown awkwardness. Harry paid her no mind, his eyes still fixed on the book. “If you want, I’ll turn off the lamp when I’m done with this chapter, only half a page left.” He said.

“Ok.” She plugged in her phone to charge and checked her alarm for the morning in the meantime. 

When she heard the sound of Harry closing his book she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” She said in a shaky voice.

There was a long silence and she turned to look at Harry, to be sure that he had heard her. “I’m sorry, too.” He said at long last.

“I shouldn’t have said the things I said in the car.” She sat up against the pillows, averting her eyes from his.

“I shouldn’t have said the things I said, either.”

“I should have defended you with George and Joan.”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Liz bit her lip, and took a ragged breath. “Don’t say that.” She glanced up at Harry from under her lashes.

He shook his head, “I made it weird, and I should have just kept it very simple. I shouldn’t have confused things like that.”

“I’ve been feeling confused too Harry.” She picked at a loose thread at the cuff of her sleeve, “But I don’t think that kissing was a mistake.”

He set his book down on the nightstand. “Of course it was. This was a job, plain and simple, and I’ve messed it up by… by…”

“I’m sorry if I did something to get in the way of your job.” She still couldn’t look at him.

“It wasn’t you. You did nothing wrong. It was me, I made it personal.”

“Just because it became personal doesn’t mean that it’s wrong.” They were dancing around the subject and it was driving Liz crazy, but she didn’t know of a better way to discuss it.

“Look, Liz, I should have told you sooner,” her heart sank, these were not promising words. Nothing good was ever preceded by such words. “The merger isn’t going to go through. It’s all but fallen apart, we’re probably going to call it off on Monday.”

What exactly was he insinuating. “When did you learn this?”

“We had a meeting about it yesterday afternoon, right before I picked you up.” He licked his lips. “I’ve been asked to stop seeing you after we kill the deal.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one, our little agreement will be over. And two, the board say it looks bad from a PR standpoint if I’m dating the heiress of our top competitor. They want me to show my loyalty to the company.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, wounded. “If you knew it was over, why did you kiss me?”

“Liz, I’m sorry, I really am.”

She didn’t know how she’d make it through the rest of this trip. She wanted to go home. She didn’t want to have to get up in the morning and pretend to be happy. How was she supposed to sit there with his family on Christmas morning, when there was no point to it. None at all. It wasn't fair that he hadn't told her all this before the trip. And it certainly wasn't fair that he had told her it during the trip.

Liz reached over and turned off her lamp before she scooted down under the covers and rolled on her side, away from Henry. She wasn’t just upset about the awkwardness, or the secret, or even the kiss. She was hurt that Harry had hinted that the feelings that had driven him to kiss her were a mistake. And, if she was being honest, she was sad that it was all over.

“Liz?”

“I’m going to go to sleep now, if you don’t mind.” She said, very quietly, trying to keep the slight tremor out of her voice.


	5. Changing Tides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter alludes to physical abuse. If you are sensitive to such things, please be aware.

Mile after mile brought on the increased population and urban sprawl Liz had left behind only a few short days ago. Although she had always thought of herself as a city girl, she felt she was already missing the small town feel of the Hamptons, and the comfort of the old sprawling home.

What she didn’t miss was the forced smiles and false gaiety she had feigned all through Christmas day. Moreover, she couldn’t wait for Harry to drop her off at home. 

Christmas morning she’d sat by his side with his whole family and pretended like everything was alright, like nothing at all had happened. She had thought it would be easy, hadn’t they been faking a relationship for months, what was another day? But she had been wrong. Around noon she had excused herself under the pretense of taking a nap, but had really locked herself in the guest room to talk to Cecily on the phone.

The second night together had been more awkward even than the first. Neither of them had drank nearly as much as they had on Christmas Eve, and so the strangeness was more keenly felt by both. 

They had rose early and set off in Harry’s Range Rover, headed back down the island toward Manhattan. Liz sat in the tan leather passenger seat, wrapped in her knit cardigan, reluctant to even try smoothing things over with conversation. Harry, for his part, was driving the car with singular attentiveness, he didn’t even appear to be listening to the NPR program he had left on the radio.

It was in somber silence that they drove past towns, villages, cities, places whose existence she had been ignorant of. Things seemed irreparably damaged between the two of them, and in the hours that stretched to impossible lengths in the solitude of her own contemplation she wondered if her feelings for Harry existed exclusively in the bizarre environment they had shared. Under any other circumstances would she ever have felt anything for Harry?

The answer she resisted was painfully obvious, no. Absent the agreement their mothers had urged them to, Liz would never have given Harry a second glance. He wasn’t her type. He wasn’t her age. He wasn’t even close to what she thought she wanted.

But it was also a fact that that wasn’t the case anymore. She knew Harry now. Despite her initial misgivings about him, he was actually just what she needed. Well, almost. But she didn’t think she could ever understand or get past the events of their Christmas trip.

She had given Harry the opportunity to explain himself the previous night, as she tucked herself in under the down comforter. “I thought I could put it off. I thought I could spend a few more good days with you. And then I let myself get carried away. I really am so sorry Liz.” She had pretended that she could forgive him and had said goodnight with a weak smile.

In a way she understood him, but she was having trouble actually forgiving him. They both knew what they were getting themselves into to begin with, but Liz had never actually expected for herself to get so derailed. Before she could even realize it he had led her on, had made things feel real for just one magical moment, all the while knowing he would have to break the spell it all soon. 

As they neared the Queensboro Bridge Liz finally spoke. “Does my mom know that the merger is going to fail?”

Harry sighed and gave a shrug, “I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”

Figuring there was nothing to lose, she continued her line of questioning. “Why is it failing?”

“York is going to be sued by a subcontractor, the suit is going to be very costly. I don’t think York is going to be able to come up with the funds to secure the buy-out aspect of the merger.”

Liz arched an eyebrow, “How do you know we’re going to be sued?”

“I have friends over at Bayless Steel, apparently they’re filing soon.”

“Regardless of the lawsuit, I think you should talk to my mom before your company calls off the merger.” 

“Why is that?”

She turned to look out the window as they passed over the bridge, gazing at the overgrown urban jungle of Roosevelt Island below. “I’m sure it can all be worked out.”

Harry conceded, but she could tell it was half-hearted. 

“So,” She continued on her self-destructive path, “When would you like to break up. Now? In the papers before the merger ends? Or, shall we let it peeter out after the merger has fallen through?”

He sighed heavily, “Liz, can you not…”

She bit her lip to keep from going on. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just wanted to know what you were thinking so far as the logistics of the public aspect of things.”

“Do we have to figure it out right now?”

Liz shook her head no.

Harry cleared his throat, then began again in a rather unsteady voice. “You haven’t forgiven me, have you?”

“I’m trying.”

It was in quietude that they rolled to a stop at the curb outside of her building. “Thanks for… driving me back.” She said, unfastening her seatbelt.

“Thanks for coming.” Harry turned off the engine. “I’m sorry I ruined… things.”

Liz let her eyes fall shut for a moment, a bittersweet smile on her lips. She had half a mind to say something kind, something to give him hope, to contradict his sentiments. But she knew it would serve no purpose.

“Here, let me help you with your things.” He got out of the car and Liz met him by the back bumper just as he was lifting her suitcase from the trunk.

It was then that she spotted Cecily, standing beside the doors to the building, back pressed to the door. Her floppy, wide brimmed hat was pulled down low on her brow and her scarf was pulled up almost over her mouth. At first she thought a shadow had fallen over Cecily’s face, then she saw the unmistakable purple undertone of a blossoming bruise.

“Cee?” Liz’s voice faltered and she advanced, automatically, deliberately toward her sister, slowly closing the gap between them.

“Liz? No.” Cecily turned her face from her older sister, bringing a self-conscious hand to her cheek to cover the mark that marred her delicate features. In the moment Liz could feel her heart fail, and shatter. Her greatest fear for her sister had been realized, and Liz ached to see someone so sweet touched by something so cruel. No one, certainly not Cecily least of all, deserved this.

“What…” She gasped for air as she finally reached Cecily, her hands instinctively reaching for her sister’s, “What happened?” She could already guess. No, it was more than that. She already knew. “What are you doing out here?”

“I can’t go up. Mom… she’ll…” Her eyes were red rimmed and glassy from crying, “Liz, she’ll- she’ll kill me.”

“No, Cee, no. She’ll kill Ralph.” Liz felt a hand on the small of her back and checked over her shoulder to see Harry. “I-I have to go now.” Was all she could think to say to him.

His attention shifted from Liz to Cecily, a look of steely reserve in his eyes. Liz knew the look. Determination. “Can I be of any help?” 

Her sister’s eyes immediately went to her shoes, “How?” she muttered, barely above a horse whisper.

“Let me take you to a doctor.” 

Cecily looked up at Liz, her expression holding a question. Liz nodded and her sister took a step toward Harry. “Thank you.”

Harry opened the passenger side door of his car and Cecily climbed in, her hand holding her scarf in place to conceal the mark. 

“Harry.” Liz said, after he had closed the door and turned to face her, the look of determination still etched into his features. “I…” Words failed. How could she convey what she felt? Biting her lip to stem the tears she felt threatening, she reminded herself that she needed to be strong for her sister now.

“I’ll take care of her.” He said solemnly, like a sacred oath.

They pulled away from the curb, inscrutable expressions on both their faces. Her shoulders sagged the moment they were out of view. It was now time for her to do her part, prepare their mother for something a mother could never be prepared for.

****

The open window admitted a breeze that still harbored the chill of late spring. She could have almost believed that summer was here at last, with the bright sun that streamed in to kiss her face warmly. For a moment she let herself forget her impending final exams. She wasn’t quite in crisis mode yet, but her lectures were set to wrap up in the next few weeks here and she had been busy making sure her class notes were in order.

“Where were you two last night?” Beth padded barefoot into the kitchen in her dressing gown, making a bee line for the coffee machine. “I don’t think I heard you come in until nearly 1 am.”

“Just out for dinner and movie.” Liz sipped her own coffee leisurely. “Cecily picked a later showing, and the movie was a bit long.”

“I only picked a later showing because…” Cecily wandered in and yawned widely, fingers combing through her tangled hair, “Because you got us a late reservation at that fancy pants restaurant.”

Liz smirked, it was true. 

“Alright.” Beth joined her at the kitchen table, “Just give me a heads up the next time you think you’re going to be late.”

Cecily nodded, sleepily pouring her own coffee. “Sure, mom.” 

“Where are you going?” Beth asked as her younger daughter made to leave the room.

“Just going to watch some TV in the family room.” She called out as she continued on her way.

Beth returned her attention to Liz. “Well, since you were out last night you missed my good news.”

Liz set down her mug. “What good news?”

“We signed all the final paper work for the merger. There were some last minute changes to the terms, and they will really change the dynamics of the company.” She sighed and there was a hint of a smile to her eyes, “But I think it’s all for the best.”

“What kind of changes?”

“Well, for instance we’re going to call the new company Rex Enterprises. A whole new name for a whole new company.”

Liz propped her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “That will take some getting used to.”

“And, uh, I’ve stepped down as CEO.” Beth tucked a stray lock of her golden blond hair behind her ear. 

Liz felt blindsided, it wasn’t like her tenacious mother to let go of the reigns. “What? Why, mom?”

“The company is new, I thought new leadership and a new face would really be good.” She sighed, “Besides, I was ready for a lighter work load. More time for my family.” 

She could see her mother was nervous to share the news, she wanted her daughter’s approval. “If you’re happy,” she took her mother’s hand on the tabletop, “I’m happy, too.”

“I thought we could celebrate with a little get away. When was the last time we took a vacation?” 

“I won’t be able to go away for about a month, what with school and all.” She glanced out the window at the tangle of traffic on the streets below. “Why don’t you and Cecily go together? A little mother-daughter trip?”

“You wouldn’t feel… left out?” 

Liz shook her head, her strawberry blond curls bouncing, “Not at all. I’ll have no excuses to be distracted from studying.”

“Then I should probably share all this with Cecily.” Beth stood to join her younger daughter in the family room, but paused on her way out “Oh, and aren’t you curious who will be at the helm of Rex?” 

Liz nodded.

“Harry Tudor.” She stated simply, a grin playing on her lips as she exited. “Oh, and, don’t forget to pick up your dress for the benefit ball from the seamstress today.”

It had been so long since Liz had seen Harry. He’d taken care of Cecily on the day she had turned up battered and bruised, escorting her to and from the doctor’s office. Beth had been a mess that day. It was all that Liz could do to be the pillar of strength her family needed. Since then they had seen neither hide nor hair of Ralph. Of course Cecily had changed her phone number, but the man had never come slinking back for her again like he had so many times before.

For his part, Liz had heard little from Harry since the incident. There had been the odd text here and there. They had melted from the tabloids, with scant inquiry as to why they no longer appeared together. Liz had never realized how lonely public appearances were without a companion, until she no longer had one. And so she attended far fewer. Her attentions shifted to her studies, job, and family, with particular attention to strengthening her relationship with her sister.

And so it was with a mixture of sorrow and joy that she saw her mother and Cecily off to the next morning. Beth had managed to book them last minute a last minute trip for a week at a resort in the U.S. Virgin Islands. Liz was glad that they both were taking a much needed vacation, an escape. But her joy was colored by a natural regret that she could not join them. The home was much quieter without them. She would have a week of solitude in which to buckle down on her studies, with only one planned interruption. The Children’s Research Hospital benefit ball that night.

She had RSVPed to the event ages ago, after the invites had first gone out. Initially she had planned to attend with Harry, naturally, before things broke down between them. Then, later, she thought maybe Cecily would be ready for her first public appearance. And now she was going very much alone. But she was not upset. Without a date she would be able to duck out early and make it an early night.

After a long study session she began to get ready. Keeping her makeup simple, Liz twisted her hair into an artfully messy ponytail, before she slipped into her dress. The dress had been picked out months ago, an elegant, backless floor length gauzy blue-white gown, with a plunging neckline. It felt too dressy for the brief appearance she was planning on, but she wasn’t willing to change dresses at the last minute.

By the time she was dropped off at the end of the red carpet, Liz found herself feeling quite glad that she had stuck with the gown. All of the other women were wearing exquisite creations, and she would have looked out of place in a cocktail dress.

Liz worked the cameras as best she could alone, feeling awkward and strange by herself. How was it that she used to do this so often on her own? How had she posed solo? The whole ordeal was quite lonely with no one there to share the moment with. She was able to catch up a few friends and acquaintances who she said hello. But, the carpet felt like it stretched on for miles and she longed to reach the other end.

“Liz! Elizabeth York!” A voice called out and she approached the reporter.

“Elizabeth, you’ve been pretty low profile lately.” The reporter said, tipping the mic toward her for comment.

“Well, you know, I’ve been wrapped up with school and my job. There isn’t much time left over for fun events like this.” 

“Speaking of work, we heard today that the York and Tudor merger has gone through.”

Liz nodded, “Yeah, yeah, it’s been a long time coming, but I think it’s going to be great.” She wasn’t too sure of what she was saying.

“And we hear that Henry Tudor has been named CEO of the new entity. Thoughts?”

“Well, I think it’s really wonderful that he’ll be CEO, he really deserves the position and I think he’s going to be an amazing leader.”

“And I have to change gears here and say, you look gorgeous tonight.” The reporter waved to Liz, gesturing up and down. The cameraman mimicked the gesture and swept from bottom to top, taking in her full look. “Who are you wearing?

Liz gave the name of the designer before the reporter bid her good evening and sent her on her way. She did her best to speed her way to the end of the carpet, and hurry inside the doors of the venue. At long last she was able to pass through to inside the venue, with a deep sigh and a hand smoothing out her hair. She felt like she had just run a marathon, trying to keep up appearances.

“Hey, you.” She heard a familiar voice behind her in the lobby. Turning she faced the man she hadn’t faced in months. She willed herself not to think of him as she had last seen him, on the sidewalk outside her building, stony faced. She had been so mad at him that day, and yet in a moment he had leapt to her aid. She hadn’t deserved his kindness. Not that day, not any day. As much as she had hated what he had done to her, she hated herself even more for her reaction.

“Harry.” She said taking in how different he looked. His hair had been cropped into a neat cut and he had dressed in a stylish, slim cut, slate grey suit. He surely looked the part of CEO of a large company, though maybe a little young for the role.

“You look lovely.” He said pulling her in for a hug, which caught Liz off guard. His hand on her back, even for the briefest of moments, seemed to ignite her skin and she could feel her cheeks growing rather hot.

“As do you.” She replied, rather lamely she thought.

“What table are you at?” He asked leading her to the seating chart. “I’m at 11.”

Liz scrutinized the diagram. “9.”

“Oh, well,” Harry turned to escort her to the stairs that lead to the tables that surrounded the dance floor below, “Just promise to save me a dance.”


	6. Fairy Tale

“Please enjoy your dinner, and our presentation. We’ll start things off with a video about Children’s Research Hospital.” The bald headed, middle aged emcee stepped back from the microphone and exited the stage at the far end of the room as the lights dimmed. The screens on either side of the stage came to life, projecting images of doctors, nurses, children, and the hospital.

Liz ate her dinner in silence by the light of the candelabra that stood in the center of the round top table. She had been seated with other folks around her age, no doubt the seating chart had been meticulously engineered by the benefits’ board of society housewives. She was sure she shared something in common with at least three of the people at the table of eight. It was always this way.

She knew two of the girls. Arabella had been in her chemistry lab last year, and she and Juno had been best friends as children after enduring years of ballet lessons together. A few of the others were acquaintances, people she regularly encountered out in society. The others she did not know at all.

After the video had finished she caught up with Juno who introduced Liz to her date, Mark. “So, I see you and Harry aren’t sitting together.” Juno said cautiously, wiping the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “What happened there?”

“Honestly,” Liz set down her fork, “I don’t know. It just… got too complicated.”

The dreaded look of sympathy crossed Juno’s face. “That’s really a shame. I thought you looked sweet together. He didn’t seem like the type to break your heart.”

“Oh, it was nothing like that.” Liz said a little too hastily, before she added, “I don’t think it was either of our faults, I think it was just… the wrong timing, the wrong circumstances… something.”

“You’ll find someone, Liz.” Juno reassured her, reaching over to squeeze Mark’s hand.

It was everything she could do not to roll her eyes. Of course she’d find someone, it wasn't like she'd blown her one and only shot, but at only 19 years old she wasn’t exactly in a rush to get back in the game. Her friend’s attention was soon called away by someone else at the table and she became wrapped up in another conversation. Liz turned back to her food, willing herself not to retrieve her phone from her clutch to check the time. She was ready for the night to be over, maybe she could slip out before the dancing started.

“You come here often?” 

Liz looked up from her mashed potatoes to see the guy next to her smiling genially, light blonde hair neatly combed and parted. “Louis Carlisle.” He said, “And you are?”

“Elizabeth York.”

“Ah yes, so good to finally put a face with a name.” He remarked, folding his napkin carefully.

What an odd thing to say. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

“No, not at all. It’s just, I know your name, but no, we’ve never met.” Louis sat back from his plate, folding his hands in his lap. “I’m the Special Projects Officer for Bayless Steel’s New York office,” He said rather self-importantly, “I’ve seen your name on some of the York press releases that have come through my office.”

“I was beginning to wonder if anyone read those.” Liz laughed. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.” She paused, Bayless Steel was ringing a bell, and not because of the lawsuit York had managed to settle outside of court. “Do you know Ralph Scrope, by chance?”

“Ralph, yeah. He was Special Projects office before me.”

“Before you?” Her interest was sufficiently piqued. “What happened?”

“Ralph was transferred, he’s now the Special Projects officer at our Houston office.” Louis looked a little confused. “How do you know Ralph?”

“Family friend,” She tried to hide the disgust she felt from her face, “of sorts.”

“Well, if he’s a family friend, then I’m surprised you didn’t hear about the scandal.” He ran a hand down his silk tie, clearly settling in to tell his story whether or not his audience wanted to hear it. Liz crossed her arms over her chest, attempting to prepare herself for whatever was to come. “Apparently, the story goes, George Bayless gets a call from a good friend that calls into question Ralph’s character. Something to do with a girl.” 

Liz’s nails dug into the soft flesh of her upper arm. Cecily. She had been worried that it would have something to do with what had happened to Cecily. “Do you know what he did that would call his character into question?”

Louis waved a hand. “No. I mean, we all speculated, maybe it was an underage relationship, or abuse, or drugs, or whatever. But, no, we don’t know. Ralph was a sketchy guy, we all knew it in our gut, so we weren’t surprised to hear he had loose morals.”

“Oh.” Liz smoothed over the nail marks on her arm with her fingers, feeling the deep groves she had left in the skin.

“Anyway, George is like, well I can’t have someone with such bad character on my team, it’s not good for business, I can’t have a guy like this working for me. George tells the friend he’ll fire Ralph. Apparently the friend says no, that firing Ralph isn’t the answer. This guy convinces George to keep Ralph on, but says that George has got to get him out of Manhattan, as far away as he can get. I mean, I’ve never heard anything like this. So anyway, George sends him to Houston with a warning. Saying we can’t afford to have people talking about officers like that.”

“So, he’s gone.”

“Yeah. I know he’s your family friend and all, but I have to say, I’m glad I don’t have to work with the guy anymore.” Louis ran a hand over his jaw, checking for stubble.

“I know what you mean.” Liz felt the urge to unearth her phone again, this time for a very different reason. “Will you excuse me please?”

Standing, she made for the double French doors that led out onto the terrace. The evening had settled in and the patio was lit only by the strings of lights that crossed overhead. The temperature had dropped significantly since she had arrived, and the spring air nipped at her exposed arms and back. As soon as she had her phone in her hands she was tapping out a text message to her mother, letting her know the good news.

The reply was swift and succinct. “Don’t tell your sister.”

Of course. Cecily was just getting past the whole ordeal, there was no need to bring up anything even remotely related to it. She typed back her assurances to her mother before rejoining the ball inside.

Back at the table, dessert was being served, meanwhile the band that had set up on the stage was warming up. She knew she should leave while she could, before Harry found her and claimed his dance, but her sweet tooth convinced her to stay. She couldn’t leave while there was a perfectly delicious looking tiramisu in front of her.

Liz had just begun tucking into the velvety smooth miracle of a dessert that managed to mix sugar, alcohol, and coffee when the first song began.

“Want to dance?” Louis turned to sit his chair sideways, facing her.

“Oh, no thanks, I’m sort of…” She motioned to her plate.

“Oh come on, you can come back to it.” He stood, “Besides, you look like you need to cut loose.”

It was begrudgingly that Liz allowed the young man to lead her out on the dancefloor and into a waltz. Much as she hated to admit it, though, she had rather missed dancing. She moved through the steps easily. She had been raised in society and knowing how to dance came with the territory, as seldom as she had a chance to indulge. 

The dancefloor was crowded with couples, under the domed glass ceiling two floors above, framing the full moon surrounded by the stars which shone much more dimly in the city. The ball room itself was surprisingly opulent. All crystal chandeliers, gilt framed mirrors, and fine touches here and there. Though slightly out of place in the 21st Century, there was something magical about a ball.

When the song came to an end it was as though a spell had been broken. Liz reminded herself that she had an aim to leave early. She thanked Louis for the dance and returned to her chair at the table for her bag, while her partner found another to engage for the next song.

As she bent to retrieve her clutch from the seat of her chair she could sense a presence approaching, could see a tall figure in her peripheral vision. “How about that dance you promised?” Harry asked.

“Actually, I was just about to…”

“Leave?” He finished for her, “So soon?”

She hesitated, bag in hand. “Just one dance.” It came out almost like a warning.

“Yes.” He stepped forward and took her hand to lead her out. It was strange to hold his hand again, something that had been so routine to them had become alien in the months they had been apart.

The band struck up with a lively tune as Liz placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, while his own came to rest on the small of her back. Surely he could feel how stiff she was. They hadn’t seen each other in ages, had barely spoken, and certainly had not been this close in a very long time. She kept her eyes off of him as they began to dance, rather taking in those around them.

“It’s been a while.” He said after a minute had passed.

“Yes, it has.” She agreed.

“How are you doing?”

“Very well.” She chanced a glance up into his grey eyes, he wasn’t looking at her, “I’d ask how you are, only, I know you must be doing quite well. I heard about your new position.”

“Oh did you?” He seemed amused.

“Yes. Mom told me. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

She looked up and their eyes met. “Harry?” She began before she could stop herself.

“Yes?”

“Did you send him away?”

He looked confused for a moment, only a moment, then understanding dawned on him, “Yes.”

“Thank you.” She said softly.

He seemed to move infinitesimally closer to her, an almost unmeasurable distance that was unmistakably palpable. He felt closer to her, or maybe it was just that her senses were heightened. “How can I repay you?” Her voice was just above a whisper.

There was a long pause. “Just forgive me.”

The song ended and they stepped back from one another. “I really must be going now.” Liz said a little flustered, every nerve in her body seemed jumpy. It was a feeling of unease she hadn’t experienced in quite a while.

“I’ll walk you out.” He offered.

Outside, Harry suggested they share a car and called for a cab, which arrived soon after. Settled in the backseat, Liz folded her hands in her lap. “You asked me…” She began slowly, “You asked me to forgive you.” It was everything she could do not to fidget. “The truth is I forgave you a long time ago. I just hope that you can forgive me too.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up, a look of incredulity. “Forgive you? What for?”

“I wasn’t very kind to you. I… I feel awful.”

“Liz.” He moved to place a hand on her knee, “There’s nothing to forgive.”

Cautiously she took his hand in her own and held it in her lap. She opened her mouth to say something, then thought the better of it and, seeing Harry watching her, instead sighed and shook her head. His mouth curved into a warm smile and Liz tried not to think about how it had felt to kiss those lips.

When they reached her building Harry offered to escort her up to her door. They both knew it was rather a ridiculous pretense. He obviously had something he wanted to say to her, but wasn’t willing to do so lamely in the back of a cab or out on the sidewalk for eavesdroppers to catch. And so Liz allowed him to walk her inside.

In the elevator they stood apart from one another, and Liz didn’t dare look up at him. She was all nervous excitement, she had a notion that maybe she could steal a kiss from him before the night was over. She hadn’t thought about kissing him for a long time before tonight, but now that they were so close it was almost all she could think about.

The doors slide open at her floor and Harry walked her to her door. “I’m glad we ran into each other tonight.” Liz said quietly as she swayed slowly down the hall.

“I am too,” Harry agreed, half a pace behind her, “I’d missed you.”

This rather surprised Liz, though she wasn’t exactly sure why. Maybe she had always just assumed that he had only cared for her in the moment, and that afterward he had moved on. “Did you?”

“Yes.” He stopped when they reached her door and Liz snapped open her bag to retrieve her keys. “Would it be alright if I called you some time?”

“Of course.” She said, a little preoccupied with closing the bag. “You can call whenever you like.”

There was a silence and she looked up to see a look of amusement in his eyes, “I meant, could I ask you on a date?”

“Oh.” She was sure her face was a very attractive shade of beet red right about now, “Yes, yes that’d be… great.” She could kick herself for such an answer. Hopefully he didn’t mistake her lack of eloquence for a lack of enthusiasm. “That is, I’d like that

Harry’s hand came up to cup her cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb. “I think, maybe, if we were to try again, we should keep it to ourselves.”

“Of course.” Liz was a little breathless. Since when had he become so charming? What was this new effect he had on her? She couldn’t tell if she liked it.

They stood there for a protracted moment, Harry regarding Liz thoughtfully, while she attempted to check her emotions under his scrutiny, his palm still pressed to her check. “So, you’ll call me?” She asked at long last.

“Yes, of course.” He let his hand fall and Liz could feel the moment, as well as the tension, begin to dissipate. “Good night, then.”

“Goodnight.”

They both turned their separate ways, Liz to unlocking the apartment door and Harry back to the elevator. She was only a little disappointed that she hadn’t got her kiss, but she supposed that it was smart to take things slow and let a relationship develop naturally, if one were to develop at all.

“Oh, I did forget one thing.” Harry said, and she could hear his footsteps behind her as he came back down the hall.

Liz turned, “What?”

His steps had slowed as he neared her. “Just one last thing.” He closed the gap between them so that they were closer than before. “I thought I could leave without it, but on second thought I found I really couldn’t.”

“What’s that?” 

It was with particular care that he tucked a finger under her chin, bringing his face to her’s so their noses grazed. Liz pressed her eyes shut. The way he had paused just there begged her permission. Instinctively she brought a hand up to grasp the lapel of his jacket, as she perched on tip toe to meet his lips. It was an unhurried, deep kiss, the kind that set Liz’s heart to fluttering. She could have kissed him like that all night. But much too soon it was over, they were pulling away from one another.

“Good night, Liz.” Harry said, a slight teasing tone to his parting words.


	7. We'll Never Be Like that Again

Liz wasn’t a keen flyer. She never had been. It’s wasn’t just the heights and the idea of falling through the air for thousands of feet, should something go wrong, that bothered her. Rather, it was her perception that the whole experience was quite uncomfortable; the cramped seats, the lost luggage, the cold stuffy cabin, and the ever present possibility that the person in the neighboring seat could be a terrible seat mate. Traveling alone, however, truly was the worst.

Flicking off the television screen on the back of the seat in front of her, Liz pulled out her oversized handbag and began rummaging through it. 

She and Harry had been covertly dating for just over a month now, successfully avoiding any kind of attention, save their mothers’. They tried to spend their time together in places where they could go undetected. She’d occasionally go by his place and they would share dinner and a movie in his living room, or he’d pick her up and they would take a short day trip out of the city. 

The secret nature of their relationship made it hard to be serious, Elizabeth felt. Sneaking around and sharing scraps of their day trying to make it work had robbed it of the genuine quality of a serious relationship.

What was more, since he had become the CEO of Rex Enterprises, Harry’s time outside of work had become all the more precious and restricted. He always had meetings, business trips, and other pressing matters to attend to. This often left them to spending their quality time together over the phone or on a video chat.

Liz was just beginning to understand that things probably weren’t going to work out. Again.

It was only a week ago that Liz’s boss, Julia Caxton, had presented Liz with the idea of accompanying her to a construction business convention in Las Vegas. While the trip didn’t exactly sound like her idea of a good time, Julia had explained that it was a great opportunity for Liz career-wise, and she had acquiesced. 

“You’ll go as my personal assistant, but I really think it would be a good learning experience for you, since chances are, you future is with this company and this department in particular.” Julia had said when she had called Liz into her office.

“I have school…” She had tried to beg off, as she crossed and re-crossed her ankles, sitting in the ugly orange chair opposite Julia’s desk. With the beginning of autumn she had entered her last year of college, set to graduate a semester early.

Julia nodded curtly, popping her reading glasses on to the bridge of her nose. “Then just come for the weekend.” With that the woman had turned her attention to some work on her monitor, and Liz excused herself with no further argument to offer. 

Flights had been arranged for her, and she would meet the team at the hotel a day or two after they arrived.

And that was how Liz had found herself posed stiffly in a miniscule seat in coach, 3,600 feet in the air, a little plastic cup of diet coke clutched in her hand as she attempted to peer past the person seated beside her and out the window.

“Ladies and Gentleman, this is your Captain.” A voice rasped over the loud speakers. “The local time is 8:15 pm and we are beginning our initial descent into McCarran Airport.”

Liz let out a sigh, a breath she didn’t know she had been holding, she could feel the plane losing altitude, even if only a little. 

The landing was smooth and soon enough they had arrived at their gate and were free to disembark from the plane. With only her purse and small suitcase, Liz was able to bypass luggage claim to find her ride curbside. She had never been to Las Vegas, had never traveled to a big city on her own, had never needed to navigate on her own like this. But navigate she did, and she was soon checking into the hotel where the company was putting her and the rest of the team up.

On the way up to her room Liz dug out her phone. She could see a text waiting for her in her inbox. It was from Harry. Let me know when you get in, I want to know you are safe.

A half smile crept to her face, as Liz typed back her assurances to Harry. Then she sent a message to Julia; I’m here and ready to assist. Let me know how I can help.

The reply was nearly instantaneous. I’m in room 1406, can you come help me?

After she had dropped off her things in her own room, Liz made her way down the hall to Julia’s room. She had never seen her boss dressed casually, so it was something of a surprise to see the normally be-suited older woman in a pair of boyfriend jeans and a slouchy jersey v-neck top, her hair piled into a messy bun.

“It’s this presentation tomorrow.” Julia said, returning to her station at the little desk.

Liz was all too familiar with the presentation. She had helped Julia build the script and had even made the PowerPoint slideshow herself. “What, are you nervous?”

Julia leveled her with a look, “Yes, of course. But not just that.” She drew a hand over her face. “I… I feel like it’s missing something.”

Liz’s phone vibrated in her back pocket and she checked the message. What are you doing now? Want to meet up? She tucked it back into her pocket. “Let’s take another look at this.”

****

“Why don’t we hit up the town after this?” Julia suggested over her plate of penne pasta, shooting Harry, her boss, a quizzical look.

Without looking up from his own plate Harry acquiesced. “I don’t see anything wrong with that, we can all go as a group.” He looked around their table at the small team representing Rex at the convention.

“Oh, but Liz,” Julia instinctively placed a hand on the younger woman’s forearm, “Are you even twenty-one yet?”

Liz bit her lip, she hated getting asked that. “Only just,” Hers was an embarrassed smile, “Just since February.”

“Oh, well, then…” Julia plucked a cocktail shrimp from her own dish, “We are all good.”

After dinner they headed out of the hotel as a small group; Harry, Julia, John de Vere the head of the engineering department, John Morton who was the head buyer for the company, along with the others from Rex who had come. Julia had hired them a fifteen passenger van for the night to chauffer them from place to place.

The first stop was a casino. Liz had never been in one and was a bit surprised by the thick scent of tobacco smoke and the loud sounds of the slot machines, gaming tables, and the video games. As they were headed past the casino floor, for the club, Liz paused to watch some folks playing Black Jack.

“Oh, I love watching people play card games.” Julia said, cozying up to Liz’s shoulder.

“Would you want to play?” Harry asked from her other side.

“Oh, no,” Liz said, “I don’t know at all how to play the game.”

The croupier called the game and a few folks got up from the table, giving up the game for one of the other myriad diversions the casino had to offer. “Come on,” Harry said, leading the way to the table before he claimed one of the recently vacated chairs, “I’ll show you how to play.”

Julia told the rest of their group they would catch up to them later. She and Liz took up positions over either of Harry’s shoulders to watch him play. Cards were dealt and checked, and players announced either “hit me” or “stay”; commands to which the croupier was beholden. There was no talk at the table aside from the murmurings of a waitress who came around to take drink orders. Liz meekly ordered a mojito, and watched on.

Harry lost a little money as did some others. A few left the table and Harry invited the ladies to join the game.

Julia, no stranger to the game, leaned her forearms against the table’s edge as the cards were dealt, sipping at her squat tumbler of Jack and Coke. Conversely, Liz sat a little away from the table, almost as though she was hesitant to even participate in the game. 

Her cards were laid face down on the felt lawn before her. Crossing her fingers she checked, they were alright cards, she supposed, a king and a five. “Hit me.” She instructed when it came to her turn.

She had lied. She had played Black Jack before. Many times. It had been a popular game among her and her friends in grade school, and she had lost quite a lot of her allowance playing it. After her dad had passed away, however, and her mother and siblings were struggling to make ends meet, Liz had given up all of her card games. Even her beloved Poker.

Liz rubbed her eyes and took long sip of her mojito after yet another losing round.

“Why did you request another card? You were so close to the limit Liz.” Harry asked, after he had transferred some of his chips to her so she could stay in game. “Didn’t you know how low the odd were for you to draw a 2 or 3?”

Julia made a wide motion, drink in hand, “Leave her alone Harry, she’s just learning the game.” It was a somewhat tipsy defense.

Resenting the implications made by either, Liz stuck out a defiant chin. “I know how to play. I was just feeling lucky. That’s all.”

Harry covertly rolled his eyes, an expression Liz recognized as one he made in all good fun. “Maybe Black Jack just isn’t your game. We can always try something else.”

“I’m up for a change after this round.” Julia announced, and Liz nodded her head in agreement.

After a few rounds of Poker they were reunited with their group and shuttled to a club somewhere just off of the strip. It was a small, dark venue with a live DJ and a plethora of purple and pink lights which swung about the dancefloor to dizzying effect.

Liz ordered another drink or two, but kept her distance from Harry, not trusting herself around him when there were a few drinks in her system. After all, people weren’t supposed to know they were back together, and this time it wasn’t fake at all.

In a moment of bizarre clarity, as she danced to some rap song with a few other girls from PR and engineering, she realized that their relationship now was the inverse of what had been. They had been pretend they were dating when they weren’t, and now they were pretending that they weren’t dating when they were. There had only been a brief window right around Christmas, encouraged by the magic of the holidays in that big old house in the Hamptons, that they been completely truthful.

They had been pretending for nearly a full year that they were not interested in one another. And it had worn Liz weary. And now her glass was empty, yet again, and one couldn’t let that go on for too long now, could they?

Extricating herself from the madness that was the dance floor, Liz bee-lined for the bar. But, not before she felt a hand close around the soft flesh of her upper arm. Some base instinct made her whirl on her assailant, hand raised to smack them across the face. But her uplifted hand was ensnared in the midst of the motion. 

“Liz, it’s just me.” Harry’s face came into view. “We’re rounding everyone up to leave.”

“Huh? Where are we going?”

“Back to the hotel. It’s late.”

She followed him outside of the club, the sounds of the heavy bass growing ever fainter in her ears. The last thing she remembered was climbing into the back of their hired ride and pressing her forehead to the cool glass of the window, letting the fantastic lightshow that was the strip wash over her face.

****

Hotel beds were so cozy. Cozier, even, than her bed back home. She needed to find out what kind of mattress this was. And sheets. And duvet. Or maybe she could just stay at this hotel forever. People did that, right? Mmm, and then she could get room service breakfasts and housekeeping would take care of her cleaning. The thought was as tempting as it was impractical.

She stretched out like a starfish and… was not in bed alone.

Sitting bolt upright, gone was the lethargy that had beaconed her to have a lie-in. This was not a situation she had ever been in before. She’d never woken with someone next to her, except on her trip to the Hamptons, but that was different. Having a brief glance around the room, in dawned on her that this wasn’t even her room. It was similar, but it was nicer. There was an adjoining sitting area and a tidy kitchenette. 

Beside her a dark head facing away from her emerged from the lumped up duvet. She reached out to shake his shoulder and caught the gleam of something shiny on her hand. Her breath caught as her companion roused himself, there was a small gold band wound around the ring finger of her left hand.

“Holy….”

“Liz?” Harry sat up, rubbing his bleary eyes.

Thank goodness it was Harry and not someone else, but… “Harry?” She ran her right hand through her mussed up blond locks, “What the hell happened last night?” She felt like shoving her hand in his face, jabbing a finger at the ring and demanding an explanation. Had he taken advantage of her while she was inebriated. 

“What do you… mean?” He yawned widely. “Wait, what are you doing in here?”

Sheer panic washed over her and she grabbed for his own left hand to find a matching gold band. “I think we…”

“Got married.” He finished her sentence not a little dumbfounded.

“Do you remember any of this?”

“No, no, last I knew we had come back to the hotel to go to our own rooms, but you wanted to play some more poker. And that’s all I remember.”

“All I remember was getting in the van to come back to the hotel.” The gaps in her memory troubled her. She’d never drank that much before, had never lost track of hours of time. “Did we...” the color was rising in her cheeks but she didn’t care, she had to know. “Did we sleep together?”

Harry kicked off the duvet. He was still in his jeans, undershirt and socks. Liz, for her part, was also still dressed in her jeans, blouse, bra, and even her jewelry. “I doubt it.” Harry said.

All the same Liz could feel the tears gathering inside of her, her heart was in a bind, frenzied, panicked. “How could we have let this happen?” She sprang from the bed to pace. “What do we do – holy—“ 

An ornately decorated slip of paper was laying on the coffee table atop her bag, bearing the inscription “Marriage Certificate, State of Nevada, County of Clark”. Below was Harry’s elegant signature and her own sloppy one. Further down she found two more signatures, Julia’s was immediately recognizable to her, the other took a moment though she eventually made out “John de Vere”.

“Oh crap…. Crap, crap, crap.” She stepped back to sit in one of the little armchairs. “Julia and John were there, witnesses.”

Harry rubbed his temples, lazily rising from the bed. “I doubt they remember anything either. Everyone got pretty well hammered last night.”

It took everything to keep the tears from spilling over, from accusing Harry of tricking her, from slapping his face, from shoving him, from fleeing the room, from melting into a puddle of emotions. Her own mind had been thrown into a maelstrom. 

“Look I, just… I think I need to go home now.” Liz stooped to pick her shoes up off the floor.

“Like, back to your room.” Harry arched an eyebrow in confusion as he came around the side of the bed.

Heaving a reluctant sigh Liz bit her lip and raked her fingers through her tangled strawberry blond mane as she crossed to the far end of the room, to the door. “No, home home.”

“What… I…” Harry sputtered, she noticed he was keeping his distance, like she was some shy doe who might spring off into the wood at any sudden movement. “I mean, we can talk about it together, right?”

Liz edge backward toward the hotel room door. “I think I need to mull it over on my own for a while.” Her hand closed over the doorknob behind her. “I’m sorry Harry.”

“At least let me drive you to the-“ 

She cut him off briskly, “I need to be on my own, right now.” Then meekly added, “Thank you, though.”

“What am I supposed to tell people? You’re just bailing on this whole symposium, you haven’t been to a single panel or workshop…”

Liz shrugged, who cared? How could he even be thinking about something so inconsequential in the wake of the virtual bomb that had blown their lives apart? “Tell them I had a family emergency, I don’t know?” She worked to keep her tone anything but the shriek she felt like emitting. 

Harry pressed his eyes shut, seeing that he would have to concede to her, that he would have to give her the space she had requested. “Alright. Just… let me know when you’ve got in to New York safe, at least.”

“I will.” She hesitated. Normally this would be the part where she said ‘I love you, bye,’ and they’d share a kiss. But it all felt wrong. How did one end this conversation? “Harry, I…”

“We’ll figure this out, Liz. Go do your thinking, you’ll be in my thoughts.” 

“Thanks, Harry.” Twisting the doorknob, Liz let herself out and scuttled to the elevator, all too aware of how much it looked like she was making the walk of shame; her locks dull and lank, her clothes from last night rumpled and creased, her high heels clutched in her hand. It didn’t look good. Stepping into the elevator car she prayed that she wouldn’t bump into any of her co-workers on her hall, it would be hard to explain her appearance. But more than anything, Liz just wanted to get the hell out of Vegas.


	8. The Aftermath

There was no way to avoid it, as embarrassing as it was. Her -- the golden child, the one who had never gotten in to trouble, the one who had always been responsible and level headed – she had to reveal the error in her judgment. 

There was no way around it. She had returned home early to find her mother and Cecily at home, the younger children were all away at boarding school. As soon as she had walked in the door it was clear something was wrong, not only had she returned ahead of schedule but she was well aware that her emotions were plain on her face. More than that she wasn't her usual glamorous self; she wore no makeup, had tousled second day hair, and her eyes were shadowed by dark undereye bags. She just hoped she hadn’t had the misfortune of being papped at the airport after landing. 

“Liz?” Beth asked as she came into the foyer. “What are you…” She gestured her arms wide at her daughter’s general appearance and her attendant luggage, apparently lost for words.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Liz shrugged as she began to slink away to her room. “Maybe later, I’m too tired now.”

The argument, leaving Vegas in a tizzy, and her flight, had sapped her of what little energy she had. On top of it all she had been massively hung over from the prior night, as a result her day had been encountered with a throbbing headache and a pretty bad case of the spins.

As a curtesy she had sent Harry the requested text letting him know that she had arrived home safe. Afterward she had powered down her phone and shoved it into a drawer in her nightstand. One shower, one pretty terrific cry, five hours of napping, a few taps on the door from Cecily, and two Excedrin tablets later Liz was finally ready to talk. Some.

She found Cecily and her mother in the living room. The movie on the television was pretty quiet, as were they, and so she naturally concluded they had been talking about her before she had entered the room. 

Cecily scooted toward one end of the sofa and patted the empty spot for Liz, who curled up between the other two women. Freshly showered, rested, and in a comfy pair of leggings Liz felt much better than earlier, but still not spectacular.

“What happened?” Cecily asked quietly, only just brave enough to broach the subject.

“I… we… it’s all very confusing.”

“Did you…” Her mother licked her lips and considered her words, “did you break up?”

“I don’t... no, I don’t think so.” No, no they hadn’t, they’d only gone and done the exact opposite of that, in fact. However, it had caused a rift between them much like a break up. Though that was owing in large part to Liz’s reaction that morning. It hadn’t been her finest moment, that was for sure.

Cecily looked about to ask a question, then thought better of it. Perhaps she had learned something from her older sister at long last, not to press people when the occasion called for a lighter touch and a dash of empathy.

“Yesterday when I flew in I worked with my boss on her presentation, and then the whole team went to dinner.” She closed her eyes for a moment, transporting herself back to the time. “Then we went out on the town – to some casinos and clubs. The last thing I remember was falling asleep in our limo.”

“Did someone put something in your drink?” Beth looked horrified, “Liz, tell me now, did someone hurt you? Did someone take advantage of you?”

Liz heaved a sigh and hurriedly reassured her mother, “No, no, I’m ok mom, no one hurt me.”

Beth pressed a hand to her heart. “Oh, thank God.” 

“I woke up this morning in Harry’s hotel room. Apparently we…” She looked down at her hand, where it curled around the ankle she had pulled up on the sofa, the dull gleam of her new band caught her eye. “We got married last night. I don’t remember it at all. We have a wedding certificate and everything.” She was glad she didn’t cry now, though she must have cried herself out in the shower earlier. “I’m so sorry if I’ve disappointed you.”

“Well, that certainly is… interesting.” Her mother’s eyebrows had shot up and Cecily’s face wore something of a smirk. 

“I guess this isn’t one of those things that happens in Vegas that gets to stay in Vegas.” Her sister quipped.

Liz combed a hand through her hair, “That’s exactly the problem.”

“So, what do you want to do?” Beth asked. There had been a perceptible shift in her demeanor, she had taken off her mom hat and put on her manager hat.

The conversation segued to a late night recap of all Liz’s options and some rough planning for the near future. She could get the marriage annulled, but that would soon be public knowledge, and she didn’t think Harry would take it well. They could continue on and pretend nothing had happened until they decided to eventually marry other people and then get a divorce. They could try to bribe someone in the Clark County Records. Or, or , or… There seemed to be so many possibilities, things that had never even entered Liz’s mind.

It took all night and quite a lot of talking. By the end of it all the only thing Liz knew for certain was that she needed to talk to Harry. Eventually. She was rather dreading that phone call, or coffee date, or whatever it ended up being. She hadn’t exactly behaved herself in Vegas, not by any stretch of the imagination. 

She was saved from having to encounter Harry on Monday, since she only worked at the company Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays during the school year. But all Monday she was only able to think of what she would say when she finally did see him. The thought distracted her from her lectures and school work, and she dreamed up imaginary conversations in her head as if they could help her in some unfathomable way.

It was impossible to predict how he had taken the whole situation, especially since she hadn’t heard from him since she had left him there in the hotel room. Was he angry, mad, understanding, disappointed, put-off? Would he accept her back willingly, would he be cool toward her, or, worst of all, would he totally reject her?

“Liz, you cannot keep, I don’t know, marinating in this self-pity.” Cecily said Monday afternoon as she spread peanut butter on a slice of sourdough bread.

“It’s not self-pity.” Liz said, collapsing into a chair at the breakfast table, “It’s… anxiety over what Harry will –“

“Whatever.” Cecily cut her off as she slapped another slice of bread slathered in raspberry jam on top, completing her sandwich, “I just hate seeing you like this. And I think we should do something to get your mind off of it.”

And that was how Liz found herself curled up on the sofa that evening watching “Friends”, a coffee table full of Chinese take-out before her, a generous glass of Shiraz in her hand and her sister at her side.

“Tell me about your love life C.” She said suddenly as Netflix rolled from one episode to the next. After they had managed to shake Ralph, Liz hadn’t seen her sister go out on any dates and she certainly didn’t seem to be chatting with any guys. If ever her younger sister went out these days it was always with friends. 

Cecily slurped on lo mien and shrugged, “What love life? I’m making my short list of colleges to apply to, I don’t have time for men.”

Liz wasn’t buy it. “You’re telling me, there are no guys out there you’re interested in.”

Cecily leveled her older sister with a sardonic look, “Now hold on, I didn’t say that.”

“Tell me more.” Liz’s tone was light and playful as she brought the rim of her glass to her lips.

“There is one guy that I’ve had my eye on, but… I don’t think it’ll ever be anything.”

Liz continued to sip her wine and made a motion with her finger like she was winding up a string as if to say “Go on.”

Cecily sighed, “Well, for starters, he’s older than me, not that a little age difference has ever stopped anyone in our family. But,” she set down the carton of lo mien and surveyed the other food options arrayed on the table, “I just don’t have, you know, access to him. He’s just this guy I’ve seen around at the office, you know when I come by to see you or whatever.”

Intrigued, Liz licked her lips, “And who is this mystery guy?”

“Oh gosh,” Cecily brought a hand to her brow, “It’s, uh, John Welles, do you know him?”

She could have spat out her wine right then and there. “Yeah I know him. John is a project team manager. And he’s also Maggie Beaufort’s half-brother.”

“Oh.” Her little sister looked somewhat crestfallen.

“No, no, it’s not a bad thing. I’m actually surprised that he’s who you’ve been crushing on. He’s a totally nice guy, super loyal to the Tudor family. And you weren’t kidding that he’s older than you.”

Her hopes buoyed then thrashed by a passing wave, Cecily struck up a quip. “Not that much older.”

“Right. Only, like, twice your age.” Liz sniggered somewhat tipsily. “Look, he’s a nice guy I totally approve. And I’ll, I don’t know, put out feelers and see if he would be interested in… being set up with you.”

Sated and maybe a smidge surprised by Liz, Cecily picked at a carton of beef and broccoli. “Hey, which Friend do you reckon I’m most like?” She asked, gesturing at the TV with her chop sticks.

Liz rubbed her chin and contemplated the characters on screen, though she knew the personality of each so well already. “Let’s see. You’re a little silly… sometimes ditzy…”

“Oh gosh, not Phoebe.” Cecily begged.

Grinning, Liz held up her index finger. “Patience. Now, what was I saying? You’re also the pretty one, and you’ve always got a guy.” Feigning deep thought she continued to study the characters until Cecily giggled and kicked her.

“Just tell me.”

“Alright, alright. You’re Rachael.” She suspected Cecily already knew as much. “What about me?”

It was her sister’s turn to analyze the data and make her recommendation; something she did in much shorter order than Liz. “Oh, are you kidding me, you’re a total Monica.”

“Monica? Really?” Liz had always thought of herself as more of… well… another Rachael, maybe a later season Rachael.

“Let’s see,” Cecily began ticking off points on her fingers, “You’re super responsible and tidy, and you totally want kids, and you are always bossing me around. You’re a real Monica.”

Liz’s smile turned sad for a moment and Cecily, seeing the change in expression, arched a brow. “Do you remember,” Liz pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her hands, brining warmth to her fingers, “How much dad loved this show?”

“He watched it all the time.” Cecily agreed. “Mom couldn’t stand it.”

“He always drove her mad.” 

There was a long pause, but Liz never doubted that the subject had been dropped. A part of her intuitively knew that Cecily, like herself, was replaying memories of their father in her head. “Do you ever think about dad?”

“All the time.”

“I’m not as sad about it now, you know. I thought I would be miserable forever. But I sort of feel…”

“At peace with it?” Cecily supplied in inquiry. “Me too. At least he’s with Mary now.”

Mary. The sister who had come right between Liz and Cecily. Their parents had called them the three musketeers growing up. They had done everything together, played, sang, braided each other’s hair, bathed, and fought. Mary, unlike Liz and Cecily, was blond, however she had the same pale blue eyes as her sisters. Mary had died suddenly at the age of 14 of an undiagnosed heart defect. Her death had shattered Liz and Cecily, who, in the years to follow would close the gap she had left in their lives by forming a deep and inseparable bond with one another. 

It was a loss Liz had never really gotten over. Neither had Cecily. Maybe it was because they had been so young at the time. Maybe it was because they had never known a loss like that before. Maybe it was because they hadn’t just lost a sister, but a part of themselves.

“What do you think she would be like now?” Cecily stuck a straw in her can of Diet Coke.

“She’d be what, 20?” Liz began, “Well, she was always the wildest of us, the instigator. Although, you sort of took up her mantle after.”

“Someone had to keep the legacy alive, and it sure wasn’t going to be you.” Cecily’s voice dripped sarcasm.

“If she were here, she’d be coxing us to do something mad, like… go up the fire escape and break into a neighbor’s apartment, or call a pizza place and ask for ice cream delivery, or something crazy.”

“She never worried about the repercussions for anything, did she?”

“Well, she certainly didn’t fear mom at all. Dad on the other hand, was content to let her run rampant.”

Cecily smiled fondly, “Probably because she reminded him so much of himself.”

It was easy to draw the comparisons between Mary and their father. Both had been uninhibited, loyal to a fault, daring, humorous, exceptionally good looking, and unfortunately, they were both taken before their time. 

“She’d be so proud of you, Liz, going out and getting hitched in Vegas. In a funny way, it would have been something she would have sanctioned.”

This brought a giggle to Liz’s lips, “You’re so right. She would have loved the spontaneity of it.”

They spent the rest of the evening going over old memories, telling stories from their childhood like oral family videos. They laughed as they remembered their father’s antics, especially when they enraged their mother. Liz told a story about a family vacation gone horribly awry in the most spectacularly hilarious way, and Cecily recalled the better moments of an old bind cat they had grown up with. 

Talking well into the evening, Cecily eventually fell asleep on the sofa, while Liz was left to dutifully clear the coffee table of their meal before heading off to sleep in her own bed. 

****

She was running late. Quite late. Nothing had gone right that morning. Her hair had been a tangled mess when she awoke which would not smooth down no matter what she did. There had been no warm water in the apartment for her to wash her face with. Her makeup had gone all wrong. The train was late. She hadn’t dressed warm enough for the weather. It was truly the worst. And on top of it all, she was dreading work, of course.

Honestly, she told herself as she rode the elevator up to her floor, she never really encountered Harry during the average work day. He was normally in his office, in meetings in the conference room, grabbing lunch with execs from other companies. She didn’t know why she was so worried about running into him at the office today.

Besides, what did she think would happen if she did? He wouldn’t humiliate her, that wasn’t like him. The worst that could happen would be that he would call her into his office to talk. Though, she couldn’t really see him doing that during work hours either.

Having installed herself at her desk outside of Julia’s office, Liz tried to be as quiet and unnoticeable as possible while she did her work. Julia had arrived before her and so Liz didn’t have to face her questions regarding Liz’s sudden departure from Vegas. For now.

As Liz tucked her handbag under her desk she noticed a small folded slip of paper on her keyboard. Unfolding it Liz immediately recognized the cramped, but tidy, penmanship. _Can we talk? –H._

_Not now_. Was Liz’s mental reply. Not at work, not at lunch, not until later.

She fiddled with the band on her finger as her computer booted up. A thought had crossed her mind not to wear it, to keep it in the jewelry dish on her nightstand and forget about it for a while. But that didn’t seem right. She was married after all, maybe not the right way, but she was still married. Although, wearing it on her ring finger was not an option, that would only invite comment and speculation, which was not a particular goal of hers. In the end, she had settled for wearing it on her right hand, and cluttering her fingers with other rings to draw attention from the simple but immediately recognizable wedding band.

It was easy to get lost in her work, surprisingly. Liz supposed she was glad to have something to distract her from the borderline catastrophe that was her life. There was a mountain of work waiting for her in her inbox and her email was overflowing, which was something that would normally cue a small scale melt down on her part, but today was a welcome reprieve. 

She worked through dozens of emails and moved on to small scale press releases for building projects, drafting up work-ups for Julia to critique and rewrite prior to publication. It was good job, she thought, one that she would be happy in after she graduated. And with Julia’s recent musings, Liz was glad to see that not only would she be kept on post-college, but that there was room for her to move up the ladder in the company. She wasn’t sure she would find a more promising job or career in the present market.

Just as she was about to sneak out to lunch, Julia emerged from her office. She looked about at the department, working away, before she approached Liz’s desk and spoke to her in a hushed tone. “Can you come into my office for a minute?”

Getting to her feet unsteadily, Liz trailed behind her boss into the office and shut the door behind her. “You can take a seat.” Julia said, gesturing to the ugly orange chairs opposite her desk as she moved around it. “I just wanted to check in with you and make sure you were alright.”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Liz said, all subdued, what exactly did Julia remember from Vegas? “I’m sorry I had to leave the convention early, I had a family emergency.”

Julia folded her arms on the desk top, “Oh really?” She asked, squaring Liz with a look, eyebrows raised in expectation.

There was a beat, a moment of silence, which Liz wished desperately to fill. “Yes,” she found herself saying, her mouth not properly consulting her mind, “Yes, Cecily had appendicitis and I felt like I needed to come home.”

“Did she now?” Julia asked, cocking her head to the side, “Well, I’m very sorry to hear it. And I hope she makes a good recovery.”

Liz dithered for just a second before agreeing, “Yeah, me too.”

“Liz, there was something else that I wanted to talk about.”

She shifted in her seat, trying to keep her discomfort from being too obvious. “Sure.”

“That night in Vegas… I want to apologize, I wasn’t very professional.”

“None of us were.” She agreed, one corner of her lip curling as she shook her head.

Julia took a deep breath, “Look, I remember only bits and pieces, but I do remember going to a 24 hour wedding chapel at one point. What happened in there?” Her’s was a searching look. Did she really not remember? Was she telling her whole side of the story?

“I don’t remember much of that night myself. I don’t even remember going to a chapel.”

Her boss looped a lock of her tawny hair behind one ear, “I just want to be sure because, you know, we work in PR, and it’s our job to control the public appearance of this company. I don’t want anything scandalous getting out.”

“If it happened after we were playing at the casino then I think Harry and John were with us. Have you talked to either of them?”

“John says he remembers there was a wedding, but he couldn’t remember who got married, or if it was even someone from our group. I think my next step may be to check with the Clark County Clerk to see if there are any marriage certificates under our-“

“Julia.” Liz bit her lip. “You don’t have to do that.” She could feel herself slipping out of control, like she was having some sort of out of body experience and she had totally lost the reins to her actions. “Look, what I tell you doesn’t leave this room. Not ever.”

Her boss didn’t look nearly shocked enough, there was almost a look of smug satisfaction on her face, the way her eyes lit up and the way her lips pursed. She almost seemed to be half expecting it. “Yes?”

“That night… there was a wedding. It was me and… me and Harry. I didn’t know until the next day.”

“So you panicked and left?”

“It was all an accident. And it was too much for me to handle.”

Julia sighed and rubbed her temple. “Well, are you handling it now? Because, this is kind of important. If it gets out, it doesn’t look good. I can see it on Page Six, ‘Rex CEO Weds College Intern in Sin City Wedding Chapel’ or ‘Airhead Heiress Weds CEO of Family’s Former Company’ the possibilities so far as spinning this story are endless.”

“I’m trying to handle it. Have you talked to Harry about it?”

“Yes, he came to me immediately. I think the more important question is have _you_ talked to Harry?” She wasn’t condescending or reproachful, she was concerned. Concerned about Harry and Liz.

“Not yet.” She admitted. “From a PR standpoint what would be our best option?”

A kind smile spread across Julia’s face. “Before you assess it from a PR standpoint, you have to know the real life standpoint. Liz, where are you with this whole thing?”

“I think I’m…” She sighed and looked heavenward, shaking her head, “I think I’m ready to talk to Harry.”

****

It took a lot of nerve to knock. No matter how much she had worked herself up for this moment on the cab ride over, no matter the mental pep talk she had given herself in the elevator, no matter the courage she had worked up as she had walked down the corridor; when she came face to face with the smooth walnut door she had lost every bit of readiness she thought she had.

She hadn’t told Harry she was coming. He would be at home, of course, that was his nature. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he was there.

What bothered her now – here, just as she was raising her hand to knock on his door – was the sudden realization that this conversation they were about to have would change everything. She would either become Mrs. Henry Tudor and take up the role of a dutiful wife, or she would return home as Elizabeth York, college student, heiress, and twenty-one year old divorcee. Or were they still technically eligible for an annulment? 

She looked at her watch, it was getting late and she wasn’t doing herself any favors, standing out here in the hallway, worrying about a conversation. With a bit of a churn in the pit of her stomach she rapped her knuckles on the door. Hardly breathing, she waited for Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Tumblr user @harritudur who has always supported me in this AU endeavor.


	9. Daydream

She didn’t remember his eyes ever having been so blue. Both light and intense at the same time, even in the dimness of the hallway. “So, you’ve come at long last?” He opened the door a bit wider, “would you like to come inside?”

“Thanks.” Liz clutched at the strap of her handbag slung over her shoulder, just to have something to hold on to. She wondered, briefly, if he had been waiting for her, almost expecting her. His apartment was immaculately tidy and there was soft music playing over the stereo.

“Would you like something to drink?” Harry asked, slipping into the kitchen while she dropped her bag on a chair in the living room. She heard the fridge open and he called out, “I have some beer, wine, juice, water…”

“Water is fine.” She made to sit down, but then, fidgeting, wasn’t sure how comfortable she should get. Besides, she was going to remain uncomfortable anyway, it wasn’t your average conversation. Maybe if she knew Harry better it would feel more natural to discuss such things, but she didn’t know him that well. In fact, she didn’t feel she knew him at all.

Returning from the kitchen Harry handed off a glass of water to Liz. “So, I assume you came to talk.” He cut to the chase, motioning for her to take a seat on the sofa.

“Yes.” Where did she begin? “Harry, what we did was… so stupid. I feel so stupid.”

He nodded from the far end of the sofa. “I feel like quite an ass myself.”

“I don’t…. I don’t want you to feel like you have t-to… like you have to do anything.” Eloquent. Really Liz, top notch communication right there. Rather frustrated with herself for not rehearsing what she wanted to say for the one millionth time, she forged ahead and tried again to express herself. “I don’t want you to feel any particular pressure to do anything you don’t want to, you don’t have a duty to me, you don’t owe me anything.”

“What do you mean?” Apparently attempt two hadn’t been much of a success either.

“If you want to cut and run, I totally understand. If we’ve messed this thing up beyond repair then I think we need to admit it to ourselves and just… give it up.”

He stared into his glass then out the window at the city skyline, illuminated with the glow of a thousand lights. “Is that what you think? Is that what you want to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Certainly you know what you want. You wouldn’t have come here otherwise.” He was still looking out the window. He wasn’t putting any of his cards down on the table, she had nothing to work with here. It was impossible to gauge his reactions or desires.

“What I want is… Oh I don’t know what I want.” The pressure was mounting and she could feel the tears brimming behind her lashes. She didn’t want another person to her leave her life before she was ready. Like Mary, like her father. That was what she wanted, but she didn’t know how to say it. She didn’t know if she should say it, or if she could find an appropriate way to verbalize it. “What do you want, Harry?”

He started, his lips parting as if to say something, then he pressed them firmly together again. “We barely know each other. We have only known one another casually. I don’t… I don’t know your favorite color, your favorite food, your family history. And you, you don’t know my likes, my dislikes, my moods and quirks and habits.”

She nodded. Fair enough. The silence seemed to stretch on for an infinity, she couldn’t bear to look at him for fear that she would say the stupidest thing or lose heart entirely and leave. She fixed her eyes on the rug, on the leg of the coffee table, on anything. Finally she set her glass on the table and stood. Maybe she should go. “I would like to know you, all of you.” She blurted out quietly, her voice cracking as she met his gaze.

There was a beat, only one beat, before he was up, catching her hand in his gently. “You asked me what I want, and the truth is, I’m not sure either. But I know what I don’t want.” He laced his fingers with hers. “I don’t want to pretend this never happened, I don’t want to scare you off, I don’t want to give you up.”

“You don’t?” 

“Not for an instant, Liz.” His expression was all earnestness, she had never seen him like this before. “I was being so careful, taking it so slow, and being sure not to freak you out by getting too serious. And then I went and screwed it all up. I’ve never felt so terrible in my life. And for the past few days I’d been scared that I’d gone and ruined what I’d worked so hard for – what we worked so hard for - what we had together, as new as it all was.”

She had no idea that he felt so deeply about their relationship together. It had only been casual, little dates and visits here and there, nothing serious, no pressure. And they were only two months in. But now she saw it for what it had been, a carefully constructed and slow moving vessel, to which they had each added a bit of themselves piece by piece. They had been working together to make it last. But they had thrown it to the rapids too soon.

“But Liz, I really, truly, think we can make this all work.” He took her other hand, “I have a plan. Do you trust me?”

There was only a moment’s hesitation before she found herself nodding. Was she insane, trusting Harry, who she hardly knew, with something as delicate and important as this? He seemed cautious enough, she figured, but then again he had been one half of what had got them into this mess in the first place… right?

And then he was sinking to one knee and her breath caught at the same time her heart fluttered. He couldn’t be doing what she thought he was doing, right? “Elizabeth York,” there was tiny leather covered box in his hand; where it had come from, she had no idea, “Will you marry me, again?” As he smirked the box popped open.

Her eyes shot to his, never taking in the ring he had so carefully chosen. She couldn’t have been more surprised than if he had revealed his alter ego was Batman. “Harry,” was all she could manage. The proposal had come entirely out of left field. 

“I mean it.” He said, ring box in one hand, the other taking up her own, “I want us to figure this thing out. I have a feeling we’re meant to be together. Will you marry me?”

It was now that the tears chose to spill over, glistening on her lashes. She brought one hand up to banish the tears from her cheeks with trembling fingers. It was a gamble, a risk, but it wasn’t one that she was willing to pass up. “Yes, of course.”

Elated beyond belief, Liz didn’t even care that her life was a confusing mess. She didn’t care that they had gone and done everything backward, she didn’t care that she didn’t know what their next step was, she didn’t care that it would sound like the dumbest love story to anyone she told it to. They had each other and she trusted him, and that was all that mattered.

They spent the evening curled up on the sofa together, Henry lounging with her head on his stomach, petting her hair and talking about the future. Their future. He told her he wanted her to have her fairy tale wedding with their families present. They would always have Vegas, but the wedding would be for everyone else.

“Will you stay here tonight?” He asked as the hours slipped by and it grew later and later. “We are, after all, married.”

She graced him with a sheepish smile. As much as she knew it was true, she still had the distinct feeling she was doing something forbidden. “Sure.”

In a text to Cecily, Liz let her know things had gone well and asked her sister not to wait up for her. Cecily responded with a sole winky face. The girl was insufferable and would probably expect a full accounting the next day.

Liz had never stayed over at his before, in fact, she had never even been into his bedroom. It was comfortable, like the other rooms in his apartment, with a lived-in look. A cream upholstered bedframe housed a king-sized bed covered in fluffy white linens, and was flanked by night tables bearing twin lamps and stacks of books. At the foot of the bed was a narrow bench, and opposite a dresser topped with a television. The whole far wall was floor to ceiling windows with both sheer and black-out drapes. The en suite, she found, was all marble and chrome and upscale fixtures. She wondered, for a moment as she brushed her teeth beside Harry at the double sink vanity, if they would live here together.

Harry lent her a tee shirt, which looked quite oversized on her, to sleep in. Together they climbed into bed. “What’s that?” She asked, as she snuggled up alongside him and pointed to the nightstand.

“This?” Harry asked, and picked up the silver frame to bring it closer for her inspection. 

Within the frame was a black and white print of her and Harry. She was bundled up in a barn coat, wind whipping her hair despite her attempt to hold her mane back with the sun glasses atop her head. Harry was beside her, one arm around her and the other clearly outstretched to take their photo. Her body was huddled up to his, her hand on his chest. They looked to both be laughing at something which gave the shot a semi-candid feel.

“It’s a photo of us from around Christmas.”

“It’s from before we… separated.”

He set the photo back on the night stand, “I know. I still think we had a nice time on that holiday.”

“That was when we had our first real kiss. That was when we both figured out we liked each other.”

“I was so nervous to kiss you.” He said, absentmindedly stroking her arm with his fingers. “I thought you were so out of my league, I still think that.” He looked down at her and winked.

This made her smile, “I’m glad you did kiss me, though. Or else we’d probably not be sitting here today, like this.”

****

It was hard to get up and return home the next morning, but Liz had to. It was all a rush to go home, dress, and dash out to the office. Harry had ordered her a private car for the ordeal and she thanked him heartily for it over text message on the way to work. 

Julia had, of course, noticed the ring on her finger the moment she saw Liz and had given her a warm hug and congratulations. But the other PR girls seemed to eye her warily. Liz knew what they were thinking. That she was a gold digger. Possibly that she was sleeping with the exec so she could win her family’s company back. That wasn’t the truth of it at all, but she didn’t need to explain it to others.

After work she met up with Cecily at a nearby restaurant for dinner, since her sister was practically going out of her mind with impatience.

She found Cecily in a both by the front windows, looking rather waif like in a long sleeve boho dress and her hair piled up in milkmaid braids atop her head. “There you are, at last.” She stood and hugged her sister. “Tell me,” She began, sliding back into the booth, “What happened?”

Wordlessly Liz raised her hand, and Cecily gasped, then reached out to grab at her sister’s fingers. “You said it went well, but… holy hell Liz, this is better than well. I’ll bet you were surprised.”

Liz bit her lip to keep the Cheshire cat grin from her lips. “Yeah, I was pretty well surprised.”

“Aww, Liz I am just so happy for you.” She now had Liz’s hand between both of her own. “I’m so happy for you and Harry. Oh this is just… this is just so wonderful.”

“I just wish mom could be here,” Liz said, “Where is she?”

“She had a meeting for one of the boards she’s on, the Met I think. They’re getting some last minute planning done for the gala on Saturday night.”

“You’re planning on going to that, right?”

Cecily looked a little confused, “Yeah, we’re supposed to be going to pick out dresses together tomorrow night, or did you forget?”

She had forgot. “Sorry, I’ve just had a lot going on up here lately,” she pointed to her head.

“Look, see, you’re forgetting about me already.” Cecily said, all mock disappointment.

“No, C, I could never forget about you!”

****

“I picked it out from my mother’s jewelry collection. It was just a ruby when I found it. It’s been in the family for generations though.” Henry sat beside Liz in the backseat, her hand lay in his so they could look at the engagement ring together. “I had the diamonds around it added, as well as the pave emeralds on the band.”

Liz wrinkled her nose, “You had them added? How did you get it done so quickly? We got married on a Friday night and were engaged by Tuesday evening…” It was a ridiculous sentence, she was well aware.

Just then a little color rose to Harry’s high cheeks. “I had it all arranged a month or two back.” He mumbled quietly.

The blush, she found, was contagious. “Oh.” So, he already had ideas of an engagement prior to Vegas, she gathered. She wouldn’t inquire more, not just now. “Well, it’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He let her hand go and peered out the window. “Nearly there. Are you ready for this?”

Nervously she smoothed her dress over her lap and tried to refrain from biting her lip. “Yeah, I think so.”

It would be their first public appearance together since before Christmas, over ten months ago. And this time it would be with the addition of an engagement ring bearing a stone the size of a small robin’s egg. Liz had dressed carefully for the occasion, in a timeless vintage gold Dior gown. Harry had gone for a charcoal grey suit with complementary gold details. 

Liz didn’t normally go for quite such high end gowns for a gala, even if it was the event of the year. But Harry had insisted that she should wear her dream dress for the occasion, something befitting her social status. Since when did he know anything about fashion?

She had felt sad to let her sister down, since they were to have attended together. But Harry had arranged a date for Cecily, one which she accepted with only a little trepidation since it was with her current crush John Welles. It was her first real date since the incident and Liz had assured her sister that she would stay close through the evening. In any case, the couples had decided to share rides to and from the event.

The Met was looking beautiful, illuminated against the dark by a thousand lights and camera flashes. The red carpet seemed to spill forth from the museum to cascade down the steps to the street below. Cecily and John exited the vehicle first, creating very little stir among the media. Cecily had never garnered quite as much attention as her sister, despite being better looking by all accounts.

They were up next. Harry gave her hand a squeeze before he got out. As he handed her up, out of the backseat she could perceive the attention was on them for the moment being. The lenses of the cameras shifted in their direction and the calling began. 

Standing, she took a moment to arrange her skirt before taking Harry’s hand once again. Her calm exterior did nothing to betray the fact that her heart was practically in her throat. She was excited and apprehensive simultaneously. 

They had captured the attention of many reporters and cameras. 

Hand in hand they took to the carpet and posed for a few minutes before taking an interview together. The reporter was a small middle aged man dressed in a well cut suit and thick glasses, and with salt and pepper hair slicked back in a stylish coif. With his stature easily under 5 foot 5, and his beak-like nose the reporter reminded Liz of a bird.

“Liz, Harry, I see you two are back together.” He said eagerly. “When did this happen?”

“We ran into one another a few months back at an event.” Liz supplied before Harry cut in.

“I really couldn’t stay away from her.”

Liz looked up to see a mercurial smile playing on his lips. There seemed to be at least a half truth to the admission, after all it wasn’t part of their scripted talking points. It had felt like old days, sitting together before an event and going over their official story, only this time there was the added dimension of Julia’s input and official say-so.

“And it looks like you’ll never have to!” The reported replied, and gestured to Liz, “is that a ring I spy, Miss. York?”

She lifted her hand daintily into the avian reporter’s outstretched palm. Her ring caught the light off a few flash bulbs and she watched as the reporter’s cameraman swooped in for a prime shot. “Oh, isn’t that just stunning! Congratulations.” The reporter cooed, “And you wear it so well, darling. Now Harry, tell me, is this a Tudor family heirloom?”

Harry cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah, actually it is. I had some alterations made to make it Liz’s own, but it’s been in the family for a while.” By this time the surrounding media had caught on and were crowding one another for coverage. Liz could feel Harry press his hand to the small of her back, it was a tiny protective gesture.

“Well it’s unique and charming, just like you two. How long have you been engaged?”

“Just a few days.” Liz said, “So, we have a lot of planning still to do.”

“And I see you both just got back from Vegas…” The reporter dangled the unasked question.

“That was a work trip, a construction convention.” Harry flashed a smile, “I go every year with a team from the company. Liz is the assistant to the head of PR and came to learn more of the business. Unfortunately she couldn’t stay long as she had prior engagements here in New York. She was a real trooper taking two red-eye flights in under 48 hours.”

The protective hand was now migrating up towards her shoulder. He wanted out of this interview. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you have more interesting stories to cover.” She grinned and began turning to leave.

“Wait, can I ask who your wearing Elizabeth?”

She always loved receiving the question. Striking a little pose as the camera panned up and down her, Liz responded, “it’s a vintage Dior.” The gold material hugged her every curve while providing the dramatic volume of a 1950’s old Hollywood glamour gown. Her exposed shoulders, back, and the smallest bit of cleavage was tantalizing in the most demure way possible. Her strawberry blond hair had been done up in a slightly messy chignon, a look her mother had argued was too mature for her until she saw it.

“Honey, you look like a million bucks.”

“Thank you.” She suppressed a goofy smile. Compliments were always hard to take, but today she was really feeling like a million bucks.

“I wish you two every happiness, I’ll let you go now.” The reporter abruptly turned to look into his camera and report back to his station.

True to her word, Liz kept one eye on her sister and her date as they made their way down the red carpet and into the event. Cecily, for her part, seemed to be enjoying her time with John. She had never taken a date to an event before. John seemed attentive and patient, holding her bag for her at intervals and taking the red carpet at her pace, posing with her in pictures when bidden and standing back when not. He had complimented her on her lovely dress first thing when he had seen her, which always won brownie points with Cecily, who was clad in a seafoam green structured sheath dress which ended midcalf. It was a bold choice, but with her waifish figure she could pull off just about anything.

“Thanks for setting them up.” She whispered to Harry as an aside, “They look so cute together, what do you think?”

He considered the two figures yards ahead of them, Cecily was just passing inside of the museum and John was walking beside her, a hand on her mid back. “It’s too early to say.”

“Oh, come on Harry, I’m not looking for anything prophetic, what’s your sense of them so far?” She paused quickly for some last photos on the steps.

“I think…” He joined her, “They complement one another.”

They had taken one or two interviews that were more or less like their first one and had posed for as many photos as Harry was comfortable with, before Liz and Harry headed for the doors to the event. Within the event was just beautiful, with dramatic lighting and waiters circulating among the massed guests with trays of drinks and hor d'oeuvres.

Cecily and John had already run into Maggie, who was speaking with them in an eager and animated manner. Maggie was dressed in a strapless deep aubergine number and was practically frosted in diamond jewelry. Beside her, her husband stood somewhat aloof, only partially interested in the conversation while surveying the general splendor of the event.

It was only a matter of moments before Liz’s mother had found them. “Hey you two!” Her statuesque figure was clad in a simple white dress with gold chain overlay, her hair falling in voluminous curls over her bronzed shoulders. She looked like the very vision of a Greek goddess. It had been quite some time since Liz had last seen her mother dolled up to quite this degree.

“Hey mom, your event looks beautiful. What a success.” Liz hugged her mother.

“Yes, congrats Elizabeth, this is wonderful.” Harry went for a tasteful side hug and kiss on the cheek. 

Pleased as punch, Elizabeth’s cheeks had turned a rosy shade. “Thank you!” She had always liked Harry, even after they had separated, but had admitted to Liz in the past few months that she thought a mother couldn’t ask for a better partner for her daughter. She’d said he was something like Liz’s father but… also nothing like him. Harry didn’t have anything of Edward’s tendency for over-indulgence. When she had found out they were engaged Elizabeth had at first declared she knew this would happen, then got a little emotional and admitted she hadn’t really been sure but she’d hoped they’d stay together.

“Now tell me, how was the press out there for you?”

Liz shrugged, “Not bad. Everyone was kind. We only had one question about Vegas but… it wasn’t bad.”

“Well, don’t let up your guard now. If I’ve learned anything from living in the public eye it is that you can’t let up for one moment.” Elizabeth lowered her voice. “If you want to keep something secret you have to actively do so, it doesn’t just go away.”

For a split second Liz’s mind drifted off to their marriage certificate. Anyone with a hunch could find that in the Clark County public records in no time at all. All they needed was one thoughtful reporter, one greedy deputy clerk, one insincere witness. They could trust Julia, she wasn’t about to harm the company whose reputation she’d been hired to protect. But John de Vere? He was Harry’s friend, and she didn’t know him well.


	10. Love and War

“Elizabeth Jacquline York” the voice announced and Liz felt a heady surge of nerves and pride as she tottered up the steps and onto the stage, her fingers playing at the cords that hung over both of her shoulders in thick, multicolored silk braids. She had so looked forward to this day, to this moment, ever since she had been a child. Her father had always been the one to tell her she’d make it. And as she cast a quick glance at the crowded auditorium that stretched out like a sea before the stage, she instinctively looked for him, though she knew it was ridiculous. 

Perched atop a pair of absolutely over the top five inch Louboutins, encrusted with Swarovski crystals she tip toed as confidently as possible towards the dean who smiled at her encouragingly. The heels had been a gift. She’d spied them last week on an outing and had tried them on only at Harry’s insistence, though she'd protested the whole time that if she tried them on she doubted she would have the willpower to take them off. Despite her pleading against it, Harry had walked out with the shoe box in a bag. “They suit you.” Had been his rye justification.

She grasped the dean’s hand in a firm handshake under the diploma he handed her and the staff photographer gave the thumbs up after she’d clicked half a dozen shots. “Thank you.” Liz said quietly and the dean nodded.

And just like that, she was a college graduate.

She could check that off her list. It felt a little bittersweet to finally achieve her biggest goal to date. The feeling of ‘what next’ instantly flooded her mind. 

Of course there was the wedding, honeymoon, moving in together, then… back to work, she supposed. But what was her next goal? The thought occupied her through what little remained of the ceremony. When it came time to toss the caps, Liz raised hers in her hand, then hugged it to her chest. She’d worked too hard for this symbol of her success to simply throw it in with the crowd. That morning she’d inked her name and the date with a gold Sharpie on the underside of the morterboard, it was firmly a mommento now. 

Dinner had been a chaotic affair, a meeting of her family and Henry’s was always bound to be just awkward enough to make her sweat a little. But their mothers had moved from cordiality to something approaching friendliness, even friendship after they had a few glasses of wine in them. 

Beth had had the foresight to rent out a private room at an upscale restaurant to accommodate the party of a dozen or so. The walls were paneled in dark wood, tastefully hung with artwork. Beyond heavy brocade drapes, the lights of Manhattan dazzled in double against the window panes. Rich course after course had been set and taken away by the revolving waitstaff who were sure to keep their glasses far from empty. 

“So,” Maggie said, a little too loudly and a little to emphatically as she swung her eyes to Liz, “The wedding.”

“Yes?” Liz sunk a fork into her mashed potatoes.

She sensed Harry smirking beside her, and tried to ignore the influence that had on her or else she'd break into a giggle.

“Your dress, what does it look like? For the wedding?”

“Mom!” Harry chuckled.

“No, no, no,” Beth said waiving a hand, “Nevermind the groom, let’s let it be a surprise for everyone.”

Maggie’s lips twisted into a frown, “Not even just a little detail? A hint?”

Liz could feel her resolve cracking as she snorted a giggle, “No. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“What about the cake? Surely you can tell me just a little… I mean, how many tiers, what flavors… something?” The sentence was lazily strung together, but she understood.

“It’s, uh, five tiers.” Liz recounted as she reached for her own glass of wine, “Almond amoretto on the first three tiers, chocolate with chocolate gnash and raspberry filling on the fourth. And the top tier is marble cake with a tiramisu cream filling.” It was too much. And the cake was only one indicator of how grand and well attended the wedding was supposed to be. The planning had got a little out of hand when Harry had hired on a wedding coordinator. At first Liz had protested that it was unnecessary, but both mothers had counseled her to accept.

“And grandchildren?” Maggie blurted out suddenly, after swallowing what remained in her wine glass.

Growing red to the roots of her hairs, Liz dropped her eyes to her lap to hide her mouth which hung open in shock.

“Mom!” This time Harry screeched the reproach, keeping just enough of a playful edge to his voice to ward off his mother’s sharp wrath, which emerged from time to time.

“What!” Her reply echoed her son’s tone.

He shook his head ruefully and muttered “For goodness sake,” as he threw an arm around the back of Liz’s chair. 

“Anyway.” Beth said, primly raising her eyebrows as she set down her own wine glass. “Harry, my nephew Eddy is starting up a company and he asked if I would ask you to look over the business plan.”

Harry looked a bit like the change in conversation wasn’t much of an upgrade. “Umm, well, actually, Rex isn’t looking to make any investments at this time.”

“Oh no,” Beth’s hand fluttered airily as if to dismiss the notion, “It would be purely a personal favor. He’s quite young and he just wants to know if you had any pointers for him. Eddy holds your business acumen in high regard.”

Resignation flashed in Harry’s eyes, but Liz suspected she was the only one would read it as such. “Sure, I can… give it a glance over. Just have him send the plan to either my place or the office.”

“I’m sure he’ll be very grateful.” Beth suddenly looked past them, “Oh look, the cake’s here!”

Liz turned to watch as the wait staff brought in a large cake covered in pink fondant and tiny, perfect, sugar cherry blossoms. Sparklers atop the cake spouted plumes of glittering fizzle. Set down before her, Liz took the moment to read the icing on the cake while everyone got out their phones for a photo. “Congrats Liz” read the loopy white cursive “So Proud”.

A silly grin plastered itself on her face and she smiled for the photos. “Thanks everyone!” She felt so touched, surrounded by her family and Harry’s. Maggie and Thom were both rather drunk and still clutching their glasses. Beth looked proud as a peacock and a little teary eyed. Cecily was stealing sips of her mother’s drink and was her usual bubbly self. Her younger siblings were in attendance as well, plates and forks at the ready for their slices of cake. And then there was Harry, close at hand and acting the perfect fiancé. 

It had been strange, being engaged — or really married to — someone she didn’t know all that well. She always thought she’d date someone for years before finally settling into marriage. What was the saying “want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans”? Unplanned as it was, they’d both been trying their best to make it work.

So when the dinner dwindled to an end, and Maggie and Thom had been bundled into the back of their black town car, Liz told her mom she’d be staying at Harry’s that night, trying to keep from swaying in her her five inch heels. The truth was, all the alcohol she’d been served had gone straight to her head and she was feeling a little unsteady. It had even worked to ward off the biting chill of the winter wind whipping down the long city boulevards.

Harry ordered them an Uber and helped her in when it arrived, letting her hold onto his arm as she slipped into the back seat. When she heard his door slam shut, and after he’d said hello to their driver, Liz finally turned to him.

“Your mother is…” She gritted her teeth, her jaw clenching. “Insufferable.”

“She was drunk, Liz.” Harry countered gently. “I’m sure she hardly knew what she was saying.”

“I think your mother knew exactly what she was saying. Before.” She said haltingly.

“Liz…” She could all but hear the eye roll in his tone.

Snorting unattractively, she turned away from him as the car streamed past blocks and blocks stores, their windows packed with Christmas decorations, until finally they pulled up to the curb outside of his building. Not waiting for him to come around the car and get her door, Liz slipped out and onto the cold, rainslicked sidewalk and stalked straight to the revolving doors of his building. All the while, of course, she was confident that he was not but a few paces behind her. As irritated as she was, she didn’t doubt him.

Confirmation came in the form of the hand that reached around her to punch the elevator button at the far end of the lobby. Stepping in when the doors dinged open she moved to one side of the car while it ascended. “And why am I getting the cold shoulder?” Henry asked from the other side of the car, leaning cooly against the brushed metal handrail. The tranquility of his tone only irritated her more.

Highly aware that she was still quite drunk herself and that she was being perfectly irrational she found that she couldn’t quite stay silent. “You didn’t even stand up for me when she asked about children. You just let your mother embarrass me in front of everyone.”

There was a pause before he responded, while her own words echoed foolishly in her ears. “She only embarrassed herself. Not you.”

“It’s none of her business.” She changed gears, hellbent on finding something to justify how she was feeling. 

“I think you’d find everyone at the table would agree with you on that count.”

The chrome doors slid open at his floor and he pressed a hand into the doorjamb to prevent them from shutting on Liz as she exited. “What if everyone else there was thinking the same thing?” It sounded stupid as it escaped her lips, which was only confirmed by Harry’s cocked eyebrow as he fitted the key into the lock on his door.

“As far as anyone knows, we aren’t even married yet. And you’re only 21. And you only just graduated.” 

“Oh my God.” She passed into the foyer as he opened the door, “I’m only 21.” She dropped her clutch on the table in the hall and stepped out of her heels. She was still a teenager, not even a real adult yet. She couldn't rent a car, she could barely just buy herself a drink, and she was certainly too young to be married! “And you’re 31!” Fear sunk into her chest.

“Liz.” Came his warning as he watched her pace the living room.

“Oh my God.” She continued pacing unsteadily, shrugging out of her black wool coat to toss it on the couch.

“I think you need some water.” Harry said, crossing to the kitchen. Liz could hear the trepidation in his voice, like he was afraid that saying the wrong thing could make her bolt.

Following him, she leaned up against the marble counter of the breakfast bar and watched as he opened the fridge. “This can’t be right.” For some reason she could’t shut herself up. “This… did you know about all this?” Her brows furrowed in concern.

“For goodness sake.” Harry set down a bottle of water firmly on the countertop. “You’re clearly drunker than I thought.” 

“No I’m not.” She slurred indignantly.

“Come on,” He rounded the breakfast bar, “Let’s get you in the shower.”

Wrinkling her nose and frowning, all she could do was echo, “shower?” with confusion.

Placing a hand on her back, Harry let her back to his room. “Sit here.” He motioned to the settee at the end of the bed. “I’m going to go get the shower hot, it takes a minute or two.”

“You can’t boss me around, Harry Tudor.” She said, as he turned for the bathroom.

His tone was light, almost teasing. “When you’re acting crazy I can.”

“You’re my boss at work.” She said. “Not here.”

This elicited the grin she’d be gunning for. “I’m your husband, and I won’t have you disobeying me.”

She giggled, unable to take him seriously. “That’s sexist.”

“No, it’s old fashioned.”

Liz climbed up to sit on the tall bed, a little awkward. She pretended not to notice when Harry gave her a hand. “It’s still really mysogony… mysogonist… ic…”

“You sure about that?” He chuckled, his fingers lingering on her hand.

Liking the feeling of him standing so close to her, she was loath to ruin the moment. “Can you please go get us some more drinks?”

“And why would I do that?” He planted a hand on either side of her on the bed, brushing his nose against hers.

Did she really need to plead her case? “We don't have anything going on tomorrow, and besides it’s no fun being drunk alone.”

“Well, when you put it that way.” He straightened up and moved toward the door. “Pick your poison, York.” 

Rubbing a cheek, Liz contemplated her options with a sluggish brain. “Uhhh…”. Noting was coming to her. “Gin and tonic?”

“You know I don’t keep gin in the house.” He waited a moment longer before he announced that she’d get what he gave her before retreated down the hallway.

She could hear the sound of glasses clinking together on the credenza in the living room as he fixed some drinks. A thought that had both scared and excited her had entered her mind a few days ago. Although she couldn’t be totally sure what exactly had happened that night in Las Vegas, she was almost certain that she was still a virgin. Growing up in a strictly Catholic home, and despite her father’s barely concealed affairs, she had promised herself that she would practice abstinence until marriage.

Her self-imposed abstinence in a 21st century world infused with sex-obsessed media had only made her dread the act. What if she was bad at it? What if it wasn’t as great as everyone said it was? What if her body was undesirable? What if she did something to embarrass herself? 

And so she’d decided, purposefully, to get drunk tonight and seduce Harry. Because as much as her fears haunted her, she didn’t want her actual wedding day, or night as it were, marred by what was sure to be either bad or awkward sex.

Harry returned presently with their stout tumblers filled with a honey colored liquid. “And what’s this?” She asked, taking the proffered glass.

“An Old Fashioned. Try it, I think you’ll like it.” Sipping his own, Harry watched as she took a cautious taste. 

“Oh,” she swallowed, “that’s nice.”

He motioned to the TV. “Want to watch something, or…”

“Actually, can we go out on the balcony?”

“It’s freezing out there, are you sure?”

Snatching at the throw dropped across the end of the bed, Liz hopped down from the bed and headed for the glass door onto the adjoining balcony. It was only large enough to permit an outdoor love seat and a low table, but it was still nice. The buildings around them sparkled against the night with thousands of millions of lights. Far off and below a siren wailed through the wet asphalt streets. Liz drank in the familiar and famous skyline as she settled beside Harry on the sofa.

“Feel any different now that your a university graduate?”

Liz smiled into her glass wryly after she'd arranged the blanket across their laps. “I feel much older and wiser.” 

“Hmmm…” Sipping his drink, Harry reached a hand to curl a lock of her hair that had come loose around his index finger. “I think a new degree may be grounds for a promotion.”

“Oh?”

“Well, Julia’s making a lateral move to the marketing department and so I thought…”. He paused, “Maybe you could take her position in PR?” His finger traced down her neck to her shoulder.

Despite the things his light touch was making her feel, she couldn’t help but feel a measure of indigence. “There has to be someone in the department already whose more qualified than me. Besides isn’t that called, um, oh gosh what’s the word for it?”

Harry shrugged, pretending, only pretending, not to know the word she was looking for. She could see the drink had softened his features so his eyes looked a little heavy lidded and there was a lift at the edges of his lips.

“Can you get me another drink?” She asked, trying to hide as best she could how inebriated she was.

Complying with her request, Harry slipped back inside. Liz counted to ten before she stole back into his bedroom. Positioning herself on the end of his bed she spied her reflection in the mirror over his dresser as she plucked the bobby pins from her hair and shook her strawberry blond tresses free.

She took a deep breath that rattled down to the bottom of her lungs, pulling at the zipper of her dress and tugging the straps from her shoulders. As she tossed the dress on the floor she swallowed hard and confronted herself in the mirror again. Her hair tumbled in loose waves over her shoulders. She’d never owned fancy lingerie before, but she’d gone out that week and specially bought this sheer lacy set with embroidered flowers in tone on tone lilac, for this specific occasion, with only a little prudish embarrassment. She looked... older, Liz thought. More mature. She heaved a nervous breath and her breasts swelled above her semi-sheer balconette bra, making her fancy that she looked little like one of those women from the neoclassical paintings, confident in their near nudity. Sensual and sturdy. But that could just be down to the alcohol, she reminded herself in a moment of clarity gone hazy at the edges.

At the last minute she pursed her lips and steeled herself for Harry’s return. She could just hear his footfalls in the hallway, there was no going back now. With a shaky breath Liz forced herself to watch as he entered, determined to know straight away if she’d made a huge error in judgment. 

His shadow darkened the doorway before he crossed into the room. Impatiently Liz waited for it to dawn on him. When it did, after only a couple of heartbeats, he froze in his tracks, his eyes widening and his lips curling in amusement. “Liz.” He chided lightly.

The Old Fashioned had infused her with uncommon courage and she cocked an eyebrow at him saucily, “Harry,” she mimicked.

He handed a tumbler before throwing back his own drink in one go. All she could do was replicate the action before she snatched his tie and pulled Harry toward her, his gray eyes fixed on her, pupils dilating with longing and anticipation.

They’d never been much for physical affection, a kiss here and there with a good making out every now and again. Never getting much past second base. Sure she’d gone and skipped a few steps, but she had to admit, as he swept her hair over her shoulder to nip at her neck, that it didn’t feel wrong at all.

His hands traveled from where they’d been tangled in her hair to grip her waist. She responded by parting her legs and pulling him even closer, her knees urging him to her. As she lifted her lips to his, her fingers worked his tie, the buttons of his shirt, pushing the garment from his shoulders. Her hands skimmed over the lean muscles of his back beneath his undershirt. Taking advantage of her preoccupation Harry flicked his tongue past her teeth, teasing her. Retaliation came in the form of Liz’s sharp nip to his lower lip before Harry pulled back, a little breathless.

“You sure about this?”

“Yeah.” Was her instantaneous response.

After, when she rolled onto her side and he’d collected her into his arms Liz took the moment to be still; to recognize the way his heart beat against her ribs when she pressed her back to his chest; to appreciate the way his deep, slow breaths rolled over the nape of her neck in warm waves; to feel the way his bared body felt against her own, strong and reliable; to linger on how he’d made her feel unashamed, with his reverent eyes and whispered affirmations. 

Nothing felt wrong. She couldn’t imagine a better first time, but she was glad she hadn’t put it off any longer.

****

When Liz woke, she was surprised to find herself alone in bed, the sheets beside her cool and creased. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she found a tee shirt to pull on and wandered out of the bedroom as she pulled her hair up into a bun.

Seated at the kitchen bar in a pair of sweat pants and tee shirt, clutching a coffee cup, Liz found Harry pouring over the morning paper. “Let me guess, the comics section?” She teased, sauntering in to the kitchen to pour herself a mug of coffee.

“I’ve got to get my Snoopy fix somehow.” He sighed in mock seriousness.

She glanced at the giant sheaf of paper spread over the marble countertops as she stirred the cream into her coffee. The business section, of course. “Anything of interest?” She asked, daring to insert herself into what was firmly his world.

“It looks like Trasta Corp. is positioning itself to expand.” He reported dryly. 

“And this?” She picked up the spiral bound booklet with a laminated cover page. “Warwick Solutions, Inc.” She read with a questioning tone.

“You cousin Eddy had a courier bring that this morning.” Harry said, setting down the paper. “The knocking at the front door is what woke me up.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, by way of an unspoken apology. “And once I’m up, I’m up.”

She had rather wanted to snuggle in bed that morning, but it was just as well, now they were both up instead of being lazy. Besides, she was quite hungry. “Have you read through it yet?”

“A little. He’s setting up a construction company and seems to have a decent handle on things.” Harry shrugged, barely even looking up from his reading.

“Well, you should have plenty of time to go over it since I am going with my mom and sister to finished up some last minute wedding stuff.” 

The way Harry looked up from the paper, with a questioning smirk on his face made the knot in Liz’s tummy tighten all the more, soon enough it’d all be very real and they’d be a quite publicly married couple. Till the end of their days. “Last minute?” He queried, “It’s still two months to the wedding date.”

Cupping her warm mug between her hands Liz made for the hallway back to his room, “Much like yourself, I’m a planner. I want everything to be perfect.” She called back to him, as she sashayed back from whence she had come.


	11. Unbelievable

It wasn’t how she had envisioned her wedding day as a child.

True, she was resplendent in a bespoke wedding gown that hugged her every curve in a way Harry was sure to appreciate. Her hair was curled and pinned and hairsprayed into a beautiful creation. Her makeup had never looked better. Her jewelry, a mix of family heirlooms, cast a sparkle that shimmered over her tan in a magical way. She would never look more beautiful, more radiant, than she did today.

But she never saw herself as she was now; an hour before the ceremony, her voluminous skirts hiked up her thighs, hovering over the toilet in the prime bridal suite at the Astoria. Cecily, a mere three or four feet away was bent over the counter touching up her concealer. “You need a hand?” She asked without looking.

Liz merely grumbled in response, stepping away from the porcelain chair and loosening her grip on the skirts so they fell to sweep the oversized travertine tiles. “Now we wait.”

“I think you’re overreacting.” Cecily turned and popped up onto the counter, pressing her exposed back to the mirror. “So you’re a little late. You only had sex a few times, right? And it was all protected sex, right?”

Her sister wasn’t being so helpful as she would wish, but she was being classic Cecily and what more had Liz expected. “I think it was protected.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Her sister snorted, condescension gilding the phrases. “How would you… not know?” 

Pursing her lips Liz willed herself not to look at the stick until the timer on her phone went off. “Sorry I’m not that experienced.” Ice laced the acrid words that she bit off in a decided staccato.

There was a flash of irritation in Cecily’s eyes before she sighed lightly and crossed her arms over her scrawny chest. “I suppose I’m not calming you down much, am I?” Her tone was frank and while she didn’t apologize, Liz could hear it in her voice.

“Whatever.” The timer flashing on the face of her phone flickered down to zero, but not quickly enough. The few short minutes dragged by in a tortuous march. 

What if she was pregnant though? What would she do? How would she tell Harry? They didn’t know one another well and she didn’t know how he would take it. They’d never discussed children. They’d never discussed anything much beyond their wedding date. The future, for them, was unwritten, they hadn’t even built the vaguest of outlines together. Together. Harry, the consummate planner, surely had his own ideas, and whatever they were she sure as hell wasn’t privy to them. She’d arranged to have some of her things brought to his place while they were on their honeymoon. But she wasn’t really moving in so much as she was shoving her clothes in the closet and establishing her toiletries at the spare sink in the bathroom. They weren’t ready ready to tumble into more commitment than they had bargained for… again.

Time was moving painfully slow, and her eyes met their reflection in the mirror beyond Cecily’s figure in double. Try as she might she couldn’t imagine herself with the swell of a bump there between her hips. Couldn’t imagine herself carrying an infant against her body, delicate in her arms. Couldn’t imagine herself dropping her head to nuzzle against the soft wisp of hair at the baby’s crown.

“Do you have the Wifi password?” The question drug Liz from her reverie and her eyes slid to Cecily, tapping at her phone screen, her shoulders hunched and narrow. 

“Uhhh…”. The alarm on her phone sounded and she scrambled in a less than demure way to silence it. Time’s up, face the music York, she chided herself inwardly. “Yeah, I think it’s on the table in the other room.”

“Let’s do this first.” Cecily slid from the counter gracefully, her blush pink silky dress dragging along the polished stone to drop against the angles of her body when she stood. “What does it say?”

With trembling hands, Liz carefully set her phone on the counter and brought the stick clutched in her hand to eye level, inspecting the minuscule screen. She was very aware of her breathing, overly aware of it in fact. She worked intentionally to keep it even and shallow. “Not pregnant.” She announced after a long pause. “No, not… not pregnant.”

“Thank goodness.” Cecily clapped a hand over her mouth, “Oh, I’m so sorry. Not that it would have been a bad thing.” She babbled, “It’s just… you know… on your wedding day?”

“Yeah, no, I get what you mean.” She said, “Let’s get you that password. The others should be here any minute.” Surreptitiously she slipped the test into the inner pocket of her handbag once Cecily had left the bathroom.

****

The doors before her parted and the hum of the church organ filled her ears as the attendees stood as one to watch her progress down the aisle. At the end, stood in the apse by the alter with the chubby, squat priest, stood Harry. His unruly tawny curls had been brushed and tamed and even clipped a little, she suspected. Even from far away she could peg the suit as an expensive custom made one, judging by the fit. Her eyes locked to his and her breath caught in her throat.

She was, naturally, nervous. But she was also excited. They may not have known one another so well as she wished they would have, but she wanted this with him all the same.

Matching her steps to her measured breathing, Liz moved slowly toward the man she wasn’t supposed to love, wasn’t supposed to have a real relationship with.

It wasn’t love. Not yet anyway. But there was something there, between them, which gave her hope. At least she knew that Harry had too much respect for her to ever intentionally hurt her. That he was willing and ready to be committed to her.

And she felt the same way.

As she arrived beside him, Liz allowed her hand to brush Harry’s. “You ready?” He breathed.

They were already married, but this traditional step felt like the true starting line. “One hundred percent.”

Harry gave her hand a squeeze as they turned to the priest.

****

“Where to?” The roar of the idling jet engine nearly drowned out Liz’s query, one she had been pestering him with intermittently since she’d rolled her cheek onto his pillow that morning.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Harry stalled a moment on the tarmac so she could catch up to him and take his hand.

“Is this your jet?” She asked incredulously as they neared the stairs to the cabin.

“Sort of.” They mounted the steps, “Not really, it’s the company’s. But we have the clearance to borrow it for the trip, it will be ours all week.”

“Aren’t you going to give me any hints where we’re going? Packing was a nightmare — if it’s somewhere warm, I’m afraid I forgot to pack a swimsuit.”

Harry ushered her into the cabin ahead of himself. “I believe you should find a few hints in your seat.”

She spied that mischievous grin just spreading to his features. “You love to keep me guessing, don’t you?”

He shrugged unapologetically. The grin remained.

“Hmmm…” Liz located the aforementioned seat and slipped out of her coat, casting it on a free chair before she inspected the clues: a wide brimmed straw hat and a travel friendly pocket French phrase book.

“Paris?” She asked, “But why a straw hat in the winter?” The seats were decidedly more comfortable that the vinyl upholstered chairs in commercial planes. The luxurious leather seats seemed to hug her close like a favorite reading chair.

“Any other guesses?” Harry dropped into the seat opposite her, across the narrow varnished wood table between them.

Liz popped the hat atop her ginger tresses and flicked through the phrase book almost blindly. “I would says the south of France or Morocco, but I don’t think you took enough time off of work for a trip to Europe or Africa.”

“I didn’t?” The door into the cabin was closed by their sole flight attendant and the hum of the engines increased as the plane pulled away toward the runway.

“Where else is French spoken?” She mused, half to herself, half hoping that Harry would chime in. “I don’t think you would take me to Haïti…”. She let the thought trail off, but her new husband’s face remained unreadable. “French Canada, but then, the hat wouldn’t make sense there this time of year.”

Still quite pleased with himself, Harry sat back in his chair, “I don’t think you’re going to be able to guess it.” He said, “Any anyway, you need to buckle up, we’re about to take off.”  
****  
The plane was descending swiftly now, closer and closer to the restless waves that rippled the surface of the sea. There was no land in sight and if it hadn’t been for Harry’s calm and the reassuring voice of their pilot over the PA she would have been frantically preparing herself for impact.

Suddenly they were swooping over a beach crowded with sun bathers who clasped the brims of their hats against the wind as the plane passed overhead. “Holy…” Liz breathed, the remainder of the swear caught in her throat.

But then the wheels of the plane were making contact with the runway and Liz was feeling the effect of the inertia, pressing her back into her seat.

As they taxied off the runway Harry was standing. “You don’t need to bring anything with you, it will all be delivered to our place.”

If she hadn’t already known this side of him, Liz would have been surprised by how well be planned ahead. “Now will you finally tell me where we are?” Liz bedded one last time, standing and stretching.

Harry responded by palming her straw hat and clapping it over her head gently.

The flight attendant flung open the door to the cabin and both Harry and Liz moved toward the exit. Before her stretch out in verdant, gentle hills from which a smattering of villas and hotels peaked with their tiled roofs. 

“Welcome to Saint Martin.” Harry escorted her wife down the steps, “Or as half the island says, ‘Bienvenue à Saint Martin.”

“What does the other half say?”

Harry shrugged, “I don’t know, I don’t speak Dutch.”

A green convertible 1960’s model MG Midget pulled up to the foot of the steps, as if on cue. “Our ride for the next few days. We have a villa outside of Grand Case. It’s a cute little town with plenty of sea side shops and restaurants.” 

Their windswept cruise from the airport through the romantic island scenery was punctuated by a brief stop at Leader Price to pick up a few essentials for the short stay. The domestic task felt so new but so right, ambling through the aisles with a wire shopping cart picking out breakfast cereal or laughing at the funny foreign labels on the toilet paper. For a moment she could forget that she was in over her head, married abruptly at 21 to a CEO she wasn’t meant to be with at all. For the moment they were just themselves in their most simple forms; Harry using his fluent French to help her find the things she wanted, making small talk with those around them, greeting the cashier; Liz shadowing her husband, holding his phone for him while he dug his wallet out of the pocket of his shorts, helping him load the groceries into the back seat of the car. It was like experiencing what their life together could look like otherwise, with no expectations placed on them by family and society alike.

Liz ducked into a small clothing store in the shopping center before they got back on the road, to purchase a bikini at random off the rack. Harry had laughed as the shop assistant had complimented Liz in French, and Liz had to turn to him for a translation. “She says you are very beautiful, like one of the girls in her magazines.” He motioned to the stack of celebrity gossip mags next to the cash register. Little did the girl know her photo had indeed been printed in just such magazines many times.

“Merci.” She had stammered in an unaccented, unpracticed way.

The villa was secluded, high up on a hill outside of Grand Case, with a view of the Caribbean to the north west. It was smaller than she had anticipated, a one bedroom one bathroom square abode with a generous open floor plan that took advantage of the massive windows that showcased the spectacular view. The pool at the back of the house was heavenly, with plenty of palm fronds to ensure maximum privacy, but with a monumental view of the village below the cliff the pool water seemed to spill over from its infinity edge.

“Oh, Harry!” She exclaimed, as she sat on the tiled edge of the pool and leg her legs dangled into the cool water, “It’s just perfect.”

She looked up to where he stood behind her her, arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses shielding his eyes. “I was hoping you’d think so.” He smiled.

****

The bed beside her was a tangled mess of cool sheets, though the pillow still held the imprint of her husband’s head from where he had slumbered. They’d slept with the sliding glass doors to the patio open, and so a blissfully refreshing early morning breeze had filled the room. She thought she’d be exhausted after the night they had spent together in the bed, draped in sheer mosquito nets, their world had whittled down to just the two of them for so many hours. Hours they had not spent in sleep, but in a beautiful joy she had only thought was available in dreams.

Hunting around on the floor beside the bed with her hand Liz was able to locate his shirt from the previous day, a soft graphic tee, and pulled it on over her head of tousled fiery hair, limp from sweat.

Tip toeing through the silent house she found a pot of fresh coffee in the kitchen, and hesitated a moment before she poured herself a glass of orange juice instead.

That was when she spied him, sat at the patio table with his laptop, his cell phone cradled between his ear and his lifted shoulder as he typed. “No, the numbers for that project just don’t work.” She could head his voice carried in on the breeze, “Our bid will go over the budgeted amount, and we can’t bank on the board accepting based solely on brand reputation. It would be a waste of man power to put the bid package together.”

Grabbing her glass Liz sauntered out to the patio. Harry waved his greeting to her, but carried on with his conversation all the same. Setting her drink on the table she padded out to the pool and stretched as she took in the deep turquoise of the crystalline waters far below. Ships and yachts bounced on the swells of the waves, as boats cut through them with ease, their wakes a stark white interruption in the smooth lapis surface. As she waded into the pool, Liz crossed her arms and pulled at the hem of the shirt brazenly, aware of how the material creeped up back of her thighs and then the curve of her ass.

“I’ll have to call you back,” she heard from behind, “I’ve got another call coming in.”

She turned to peek at Harry, and sure enough his eyes were on her as he lowered his phone from his ear, her antics had had their desired effect.

In a tantalizingly slow motion she lifted the shirt over her head and cast it on the pool deck. Smiling at him shyly before she plunged into the waters.

****

Grand Case was quaint, walkable, vibrant, and exotic. Just the break they needed from the slow, laconic rhythm of their first two days on the island. They’d been nibbling on the bits they had purchased from the grocery store, and had begun to crave a proper meal, and so Liz had taken a shower, braided her hair, and threw on a light dress. Harry had added a shirt and sandals to the swim trunks he’d been wearing on and off since he arrived. Together they had ventured out in search of a meal and some island culture.

Liz had pointed out an open air restaurant surrounded by trellises climbing with blossoming ivy, which boasted sea views on the chalk sign outside. They ate together comfortable, Liz having convinced Harry to leave his phone back at the vila so they could enjoy one another’s company.

“Only two days left.” She said ducking her chin as she prodded her caprese salad, so he couldn’t see the ways the corners of her mouth turned down. “One and a half, really, since we fly Sunday afternoon.”

“Let’s not think about that.” Harry sipped his beer and turned his face into the wind that swept in off the waves just beyond the trellises. “Maybe we could go riding tomorrow, or take a catamaran ride. We’ve barely explored the island.”

“I’d like that.” She said.

She’d caught him numerous times with his laptop, running over expense reports and studying memos from department heads. There had been a lengthy set of meeting minutes the board of directors had emailed to him last night, and he had stayed up late reading through them and making phone calls. She hadn’t said much, because she knew that that was what she had bargained for with him, but the selfish side of her wanted him all to herself. And now more than ever she didn’t think that was totally unreasonable.

And so when they returned to the villa she let him check his emails and make his more important calls while she took off her makeup and changed, before she found him in the living room and tugged on his hand until she was able to pull him off the sofa. 

“I’ve arranged for us to take a boat trip to Saint Bart’s for the day.” She announced the next morning, as she flung her phone onto the bed beside her still dreary husband. For once she was up before him. “The boat leaves in an hour, c’mon.”

“But I…”

“No, no excuses, no phone, no work.” She tested out a tone she’d never used with him before, authoritative but light enough to remain coy. All it earned from Harry was his brows raised in an expression of confused amusement before he climbed out from under the sheets.

He was a complicated man, and she would have to learn how to adapt to that and make their life together work, she realized. If she wanted to spend time with him, she would have to make the arrangements and carve out a part of his time for her. But she would also have to learn to give him his space to be himself and do what he must.

“Wasn’t today just perfect?” She asked later, as Harry hugged his arms around her on the boat ride back to Grand Case, the boat slicing through the water, dark now like a slick expanse of polished ebony, the sun sinking to meet its quavering double reflected on the surface.

Harry hummed his agreement in her ear, her head relaxing against his shoulder, her back secure against his chest. “Thank you,” his voice was low above the loud whir of the engine and the water slapping the sides of the boat.

It had been blissful. The boat rides, the ambling about Saint Bart’s, their time uninterrupted, unhurried in the sun. 

The next morning found them slipping away to a secluded beach for some last stolen hours before they were scheduled to take off. They’d packed and left their luggage to be collected at the villa before hopping into the convertible and taking it down the windy roads to the private beach at the base of a crumbling cliff. Harry had found out about it online and they hadn’t hesitated to go explore.

It was early enough that they had the whole stretch of beach to themselves. The waves lapping lazily at the sand were theirs to play in, the shade of the cliff was their own reprieve from the heat. After swimming and sun bathing, they moved their towels into the shade and Liz leaned back onto her elbows to survey the scenery. Beside her Harry munched on a carton of raspberries and the last few inches of a loaf of French bread.

“Harry, I…” She began, lifting her sunglasses from the bridge of her nose to rest atop her head, “I want to say thank you, this honeymoon was… incredible.”

“De rien.” He sucked on a forefinger, trying to get the berry stain off his skin.

“I also wanted to tell you something.”

He cocked his head to one side, studying her behind his own sunglasses.

“I… know that this… everything we have… nothing went according to plan.” She’d rehearsed what she wanted to say a hundred times in her head since they had first taken off in New York five days ago. But now she doubted she could get it out properly. “You’ve always been gracious enough to roll with the punches and make things work.”

He reached out a hand and placed it on her knee, “It wasn’t just me, you’ve worked hard at it too.”

“But I always struggled and resisted, and you were always patient with me.” She was getting side tracked. Taking a deep breath she forged forward with her monologue, “I just hope you have a bit more patience to spare for me.”

His hand traveled to her thigh, a protective motion. “What? Why?”

“Because I have to tell you…” There were tears welling in the corners of her eyes, beading on her eye lashes, “And you can’t freak out or anything, ok?” It was too late now, she was in too deep, there was no turning around.

“Liz! What?” Harry had torn off his sunglasses and was inexplicably rubbing her back, as if preemptively soothing her would help.

“I took a test, five tests really, and…”. She found she was peering into his gray eyes, gone wide with realization and she choked on a smile as managed to bubble, “and I’m pregnant.”


End file.
